


Off the Deep End

by CapsuleCorp



Category: One Piece
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Captivity, Confessions, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Original Character(s), New World (One Piece), Rescue, Slave Trade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 19:34:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 60,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13219725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapsuleCorp/pseuds/CapsuleCorp
Summary: Their new crewmates don't understand Ideo and Bluegilly, but a brush with the slave trade turns into a trial by fire to learn to trust each other. At the same time, their relationship goes through some changes and they reflect on the uniqueness of their friendship. Sort of connected to Through the Dark (http://archiveofourown.org/works/7919362) with non-canon crew and details. Note: in some places I refer to them as Triple-X instead of the Ideo Pirates because it flowed better even though that's the canon name.





	1. Chapter 1

As pirate ships went, she wasn’t far from typical in the sense that pirate ships rarely looked bland and sedate. The more a ship stood out on the sea, the better for garnering a reputation, striking fear into civilians, and inspiring pride in captain and crew. The fortified rear deck with great lattice windows in the bridge that doubled as a galley, the large paddlewheels for days when the wind wasn’t favorable, the bowsprit and gaff sail: the two-masted sloop had become something truly original and worthy of the Ideo Pirates. Of course, all those modifications only made it even harder for just four people to handle, all the more reason to bring on some rookies to assist. The handful of new crew members were managing their new lives as pirates fairly well, though for the most part the work of sailing a ship through the rough and wild New World kept them working so hard that they hadn’t really done a lot of _piratey_ things yet. A little pillaging here, some scuffles there, a few big storms, but that was all they really had under their collective belts so far. There was nothing to really complain about, though once in a while as they stood under the black sail with the triple-crossbones jolly roger or gathered around the helm to chat about how great things were, some got the feeling that their captain didn’t exactly share the sentiment. In time, the gossip couldn’t be satisfied by merely passing it back and forth between crew members. They needed a fresh take on what they observed, and that meant egging each other on until someone finally took the initiative to approach one of the officers.

The galley door creaked open to admit two of the rookie crewmen, who perked up upon finding exactly who they were hoping for inside. Abdullah was seated at the long trestle table tending to both his and Jeet’s weapons, his tridents leaned next to him already finished while he cleaned and sharpened his partner’s sabers. He glanced up briefly at the intrusion and then back down at the whetstone in his hand. “Yo. Need something? Galley’s closed, you know the schedule.”

“No, nothing like that,” one answered, coming over and slumping to a seat on the bench opposite him. “Say, Abdullah. Mind if we ask you something?”

“Hmm?” The thickset bounty hunter, now quartermaster of the Ideo Pirates, set down the whetstone and reached for the polishing cloth on the table without missing a beat. “I guess. I can talk and clean at the same time.”

“Even if it’s about the captain and vice-captain?” The other man joined his mate at the table, resting on his elbows. “We’re curious. What can you tell us about them? What are they _really_ like?”

“You’ve been with them since the beginning, right?” the first added. “So you’d know them better than anybody.”

Abdullah tipped his head to peer over his tiny square glasses. “The beginning was only two months ago, and you guys have been with us almost half of that time. I don’t know what kind of things you think happened on this ship before we took you on, but I swear there’s no kind of huge secrets going on around here.”

The second crewman leaned even further forward. “But you’ve had way more time than us to get to know them. Maybe it doesn’t seem like it but you do know things we don’t.”

“Like what?” Abdullah set down his polishing cloth and lowered the saber. “What’s all this fuss about, anyway?”

The men looked warily at one another. “It’s just…Captain Ideo,” one answered sheepishly. “We can’t get a good read on him no matter how hard we try.”

“Has he always been so intense?” the other put in.

Abdullah began to grin at their collective consternation. “Oh, that. Yeah, I guess you could say he’s always been like that. What’s the matter, get yelled at and don’t know why?”

“Nah, it’s not really as serious as that,” the first man admitted. “I just watch him around the ship and he’s so damn focused and intense, it’s hard to know what he’s thinking. Bluegilly’s a little easier to figure out, he’s usually kinda cheerful, but not Ideo.”

“And when you see the two of them spar in the mornings?” The other man whistled low with a shake of his head. “Sometimes I’m afraid they’re actually going to break the ship in half, they go at it like demons and if you hadn’t been watching to see them start, you’d half believe they’re actually trying to kill each other.”

Abdullah laughed loudly. “You think that makes ‘em hard to figure out? Nah, that’s just how they are. Maybe Ideo’s intense, but he never says an idle word. He doesn’t lie to you guys or hide things, what you see is what you get.” He swished a finger back and forth between the two askers. “Weren’t you two on the tournament circuit before you joined us? You didn’t know him then either?”

The first man shrugged stiffly. “I only knew him by reputation, I hadn’t ever met him until he showed up to formally resign from the Central Fighting league.”

“I only met him once, after he’d won the championship the first time,” the other explained. “I don’t think he remembers, there were a lot of people tagging on his heels then.”

“Ah, I see.” Abdullah shook his head slowly, his ponytails swinging against his chest. “So you came to me to put your minds at ease. Trust me, there’s nothing you gotta worry about. When Ideo’s pissed at you, you’ll know. He doesn’t hide those kind of things.”

“But does he _like_ any of us?” The second crewman’s face bore the truth of what they were actually worried about, eyes earnest and mouth pressed into a tight line. “It’s great that he let us into the crew and all, but he’s so distant that we have to wonder if he really cares about having a crew or if it’s all just…”

“If we’re yet another stepping stone on his way to the top,” the other finished for him. “That was always the talk around the tournaments and the gyms – that the champion doesn’t want friends or liabilities around him, that he would just plow right through anyone in his way for the sake of the title and never stop.”

That interested Abdullah considerably, enough that he took a break from his work and sat forward, leaning an elbow on the table. “Yeah? But what if it was all just rumors from also-rans who’d rather drag him down than admit that they weren’t good enough to fight him? I bet tournament life was full of petty drama.”

“A bit,” the second man admitted, “but not all of it was just losers griping. I was hearing it as far back as the first time he won the championship, people were in awe of him and a little scared because nobody really knew him, personally, so all they saw was his charge right through to the top.”

Abdullah tipped his chin up, letting the reflection of light in his glasses obscure his eyes while he thought. He could actually believe these rumors, from what he had seen of the champion in the ring and prior to their life-or-death struggle. He only glanced up when he heard the door creak, and smirked slightly to himself to see Jeet enter the galley. “Maybe it’s true, maybe not,” he said, “but all I can tell you from our time before we picked the lot of you up is that whatever he might have been in the tournaments, he isn’t now. If you want proof, just look at Bluegilly.”

“What about Bluegilly?” Jeet wondered, coming over to join the conclave.

“Yeah, what about him?” the first man pressed.

Abdullah turned his attention to his partner hovering over his shoulder. “You remember right before our block fight on Dressrosa, everybody sizing everybody else up. Did you get any feeling that time that he and Ideo had even met each other before?”

Jeet made a thoughtful face, rubbing his chin. “Hmm, no, now that you mention it. I’m pretty sure I remember them saying later that they hadn’t known each other before all that shit went down. But,” he added with a laugh, “by the time we beat it off the island, the two of them were as close as you and I are. Closer, maybe! It was a huge change, everybody noticed it.”

The two crewmen opposite them glanced at each other a bit sheepishly. “Well, they do spend all their time together,” one noted. “Sparring and planning and everything. What’s your point?”

“Merely that,” Abdullah answered, “if Ideo really was as ruthless and cold as people said, he wouldn’t have found himself a friend in Bluegilly. Especially because Longlegs and Longarms are at war with each other! Hell, think about it – if they hadn’t become friends, we wouldn’t have a crew at all and you wouldn’t be here.”

“Oh, is that what this is all about?” Jeet caught on quickly, though he waved a hand dismissively at the two crewmen as he turned to go and take care of something. “It’s nothing personal. The Triple-X Gym Martial Arts Alliance was their idea, but if they didn’t want you around they never would have said they were open to taking on crew members. They took us on without blinking, and they didn’t know us at all.” He wagged a finger at Abdullah. “There’s still a lot most of us don’t even know about each other.”

“True,” his partner said with a contemplative nod, turning his gaze back to the two curious crewmen. “Jeet and I have a lot of our own secrets from our past, that we haven’t shared with either of them or with you guys. Part of being bounty hunters. I’m sure both of them, individually, feel the same about themselves. But, just because they don’t share doesn’t mean they don’t trust you – or don’t like you. It’s just the way they are, especially Ideo.”

One man sagged onto the table, folding his arms and resting his chin on them. “I don’t even need them to tell me any secrets, I just want some sort of sign that he meant what he said. He promised us a future where we’d all be far stronger than we ever would have been in the ring.”

“Oh, you will be,” Jeet said over his shoulder, rather ominously. “You’re not safe in the tournament circuit anymore, you’re in Hell. Don’t be fooled by what we’ve seen so far, you haven’t seen shit yet.”

Abdullah matched his partner’s warning with a savage grin. “If I were you I’d worry less about whether Ideo likes you and more about what you’re gonna do when we’re all face to face with Kaidou or Blackbeard. If you’re not strong enough to back up your crew, fuzzy feelings aren’t gonna save you.”

The two curious crewmen looked at each other and then faced the pair of bounty hunters with determination. “We’ll show you!” one enthused. “Just give us a chance and we’ll prove it. The captain and vice-captain aren’t the only ones strong enough to protect the crew.”

“We want that more than anything!” the other added.

Abdullah chuckled and picked the saber back up, inspecting it before offering it to Jeet to approve. “That’s the spirit. Don’t worry so much about whether Ideo is keeping secrets from you and focus on that. The rest will fall into place.”

At that very moment, there was in fact a secret being shared between captain and vice-captain down in their cabin. An enthusiastic morning sparring session had awakened a hunger in them both and there was only one way to sate it. Bluegilly was precariously perched on the edge of the small desk between their berths, long legs slung over Ideo’s shoulders and hands gripping at the edges of the desk to keep himself from sliding off, seething through clenched teeth to keep himself from uttering any loud cries. Ideo pressed almost fully against him as he thrust roughly at a breakneck pace, both of them already driven nearly to the brink and wildly abandoned to the heat and energy of crazy midday below-decks sex. Long limbs were everywhere, arms braced and legs in the air, clawing and flailing and gripping as the momentum built to a crescendo of hard, muscled bodies slamming into each other. Were the desk not nailed to the floor it would have been thumping and shuddering from the dangerous pace, possibly even overturned by now – Ideo had already knocked the chair over and never even slackened pace for a second. Heaving a quick, hard gasp, Bluegilly began to demand, “Right there! Right there, like that, there, there…” under his breath, restraining his volume but not his eager chatter as he grew closer and closer and everything was just the way he needed it to be. Never one to argue that kind of directive, Ideo snickered to himself and gave him what he wanted, hips rolling at all speed to pound into him just like that. It really wasn’t long at all and Bluegilly had to fling a hand up over his head to try to grab a hold of the beam in the ceiling to brace himself as he came, biting his lower lip to keep from yelping out and riding it for as long as his partner kept going. A twitch of his hips jerked Ideo just right and tipped him over the edge as well a minute later, and then they were both collapsed on the desk and on each other, tangled in their own arms and legs and slick with sweat. Breathing hard, Ideo squinted up at his companion, chuckled, and tried to drag himself off to find a towel, but Bluegilly managed to trap him with a leg-lock. “Where do you think you’re going?” he teased, trying to pry himself up from where he’d sprawled for that moment of afterglow.

“C’mon, I’m a mess,” Ideo complained, though without much energy. He managed to get one upper elbow braced on the desk in order to wrestle his arms free, not that he could get much further than that. “So are you. We didn’t even shower after sparring…”

“I know,” the vice-captain said impishly, sitting up in order to let him have his arms and then leaning against him, preventing Ideo from getting anywhere at all. “That was so hot…”

“ _Yeah_ it was.” Ideo couldn’t deny it, they were both in top form and the energy between them was incredible. He’d be feeling this one for a while, he was sure. But he needed to clean up, and this lingering wasn’t helping. “Come on,” he breathed against Bluegilly’s jaw as he in turn attacked his partner’s thick neck, “we can’t stay in here all day.”

Bluegilly groaned in annoyance as his captain finally managed to free himself and peel away. “Are you sure?” he pouted. “I’d like to try it just once, see what happens.”

Ideo laughed again as he located the towel he had brought in after their morning sparring session and took care of himself. “Maybe someday. You already get me all night, maybe if you had all day too you’d find that you really can’t stand my company.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s ever gonna happen,” the Longleg snorted, eyeing him hungrily as he cleaned up and then pulled his skin-tight pants up. Figuring he wasn’t going to get any more snuggling than that, he stretched out a foot to snag his own post-workout towel, discarded on his bed, and bring it up to use. When they had refitted the ship with parts from the Longarm and Longleg ships, he and Ideo had gotten their greatest desire: custom-sized berths made for their unique bodies, stolen from their own people and installed in the captains’ quarters. It wasn’t perfect, since the berths took up so much space that there wasn’t a load of extra room to move, and no matter how their relationship progressed they still rarely shared a bed since there still wasn’t room for two in either one. It never seemed to bother Ideo, but Bluegilly hoarded a longing to himself with every passing day and night. It was getting almost too strong to ignore, though he had to pretend for just a little longer as he slid off the desk and retrieved his tiny shorts from where they had gotten flung earlier. Once dressed, he tackled the idea again, slinking up alongside his comrade and insinuating himself into his personal space, chest to chest with a sly grin down at him. “What’re you in such a hurry for? We’ve got nowhere to be right now.”

Ideo permitted Bluegilly a lot of things no one else could get away with, and took his closeness with a smirk of his own, tipping his head up in challenge. “Are you saying you already wanna go another round? You won’t be happy until you’ve drained the life out of me, will you?”

“Please, if I wanted to go another round neither of us would have pants on right now,” Bluegilly sniffed. “There’s more to life than just fucking, you know.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” The words sounded stupid in his head, so Bluegilly kept them there, instead curling a hand around Ideo’s bearded jaw and leaning in even closer. The captain made a tiny noise of complaint, perhaps embarrassed by the closeness, which his vice-captain answered with, “C’mon, it’s not like it’s going to kill you if…”

A knock at the door silenced them both in an instant, and after a heartbeat’s pause, Ideo called out, “Yeah?”

“Captain?” one of their men responded from beyond the closed door. “We’ve spotted land, coming up on the northwest.”

Ideo shared an intrigued look with his comrade, immediately pulling away and going to find his jacket. “All right, I’ll be up in a minute.” He didn’t even stop to listen to verify that the intruder had gone back topside, but pulled on the tight-fitting athletic jacket with the Triple-X mark on the back and went to unlock the door, casting an easygoing grin over his extended shoulder at Bluegilly. “Sorry, man, duty calls. Hurry up, we’ve got something to actually do, now.”

He was gone before Bluegilly could even respond, though all he did was sigh and roll his eyes toward the ceiling. “Yeah, sure,” he muttered to himself. “It can wait. Like it always does.”

He followed the captain up to the main deck a minute or two later after cleaning himself up and slipping into his own matching crew jacket, finding most of the crew ranged along the side rail and the forecastle gazing outward at the blot of green and brown rising above the endless blue sea around them. Jeet was still at the wheel, but even he could tell that this was going to be a good place to dock. After several days of choppy seas that changed current and intensity every few hours or so, the ocean and weather had gone calm and pleasant, a sign that they were entering the sphere of influence of a summer island. Everyone was eager to get on land and stretch their legs, and Abdullah had been talking about needing a place to resupply before things got dire, so they didn’t even need the captain’s order to turn to port and make for the island. Once they sailed close enough to make out features beyond trees and cliffs they spotted a harbor with a number of small ships either moored or drifting around the bay much as fishermen would. It appeared nothing short of idyll, a sleepy little rustic island with a good fishing trade and beautiful weather, which only increased the clamor among the crew in favor of landing and having a proper bit of shore leave. Ideo turned back from observing and joined Jeet at the ship’s wheel nearer to the cabins astern. “What do you think? Does the log pose suggest anything might be off?”

“On the contrary,” Jeet replied, squinting at the three needles in the glass housing mounted in front of the wheel. He was not by any means an expert navigator, but he had the most understanding of New World log pose oddities compared to anyone else in the crew. For the last two days, the left and right needles had been pointed steadfastly in opposing directions, while the third compass between them simply floated lazily, indicating nothing definite. “We’ve been on a course to keep us evenly between the north and south needles, and this little place just happens to be directly on that course. If anything, it’s exactly what we need just when we need it.”

“And that isn’t a little too convenient?” Ideo pressed, though with a bit of a wry look.

“For once, no.” The bounty hunter pointed ahead, as they came around a bit of headland into a channel and discovered that the island was actually two, separated by the harbor itself but otherwise close enough to appear as a single island from a distance. “Hell, this place probably isn’t big enough to change the magnetic path at all.”

They passed a small boat manned by three individuals who were busy hauling fishing nets in with today’s catch looking robust; all three managed to get a hand free to wave in welcome, which Bluegilly returned with a quick raise of one hand. “Seems friendly enough,” he called back to the others. “Let’s give it a shot.”

There were a few open spots along the quays all around the harbor, so they chose one on what seemed like the larger and more populated side and docked with little fuss. None of the other vessels were flying black flags, but that didn’t seem to be too much of an issue. No one confronted them when they drew up, and no one was waiting to either question them or demand anything when they laid out the embarking ramp and piled ashore. Letting their newer crewmates go ahead, Ideo hung back with his core officers to go over their needs. Abdullah confirmed that they did need to resupply, and badly, so he would make it a point to hunt out which shops or merchants would have the bulk of the goods on his list. Jeet planned to go with him, since he was a helpful haggler and also had a good eye for not getting scammed. Ideo himself was most keen on gathering information, and encouraged his vice-captain to tag along. They were all in agreement, so they headed down onto the pier to find their crew still lingering around as if waiting for orders. Ideo glanced around the group and then shrugged, passing through them. “Do whatever you like,” he said to set them loose, “just don’t make me have to bail you out of jail or anything. Abdullah and Jeet might need a few hands to carry supplies, so keep that in mind.” He brushed past the last of them and strode off down the pier, with only Bluegilly at his side. The crew looked among themselves, keeping their thoughts behind closed lips, though a moment later Abdullah ribbed one of the guys who had been plying him with questions earlier and suggested they make themselves scarce unless they wanted to be put to work.

Narrow, winding streets paved in neatly-joined flagstone ascended from the harbor up along the flanks of gentle hills, leading the eye and the foot upward to the busy areas of the town that crowded all along the rim of the channel on both sides. The islands as a whole stood above the water on the shoulders of not-too-tall escarpments and the quays, roads, and fish markets had been built to make the best use of all the terraced cliffs where the islands dropped down to meet the sea. Fishermen’s catches were of no interest to Ideo, so he passed them all by and followed the street upward to the town square just above the harbor, pausing to take it all in before deciding which way to proceed. It wasn’t huge and bustling, but rather minimal and quaint, though lively enough, with shop vendors hawking on awning-covered patios outside their established storefronts. Though at first glance it looked like the town was simply self-sufficient and everyone passing to and fro was a native, a little observation turned up a sailmaker, some carpenters, and other businesses serving the seafaring kinds. It wasn’t at all elegant or sophisticated, and Ideo found himself being put completely at ease in no time at all. It was just a plain little town on a plain little island, with plain folk going about their daily work, unconcerned that a pirate ship had just docked. There was no Marine presence at all, either. A short stroll around the square was all it took to determine the best ways to gather information from the locals, and Bluegilly pointed out the restaurant with attached sidewalk café – it was probably their wisest bet. Even if it wasn’t quite tropical in nature, the weather on the island was still warm enough that a lot of people were taking a break with cool drinks, and some of the fishermen early to come in were celebrating with beers at the open-air bar along the restaurant’s front. One of them glanced aside as the two strangers in matching black jackets sporting the jolly roger on the back sidled up to order drinks and raised his mug to them. “Oh, would you look at that. I heard there were pirates in the bay. That must be you guys, huh?”

The bright and jovial greeting caught them both off guard for a moment. “Yeah, that’s us,” Ideo affirmed, leaning an elbow on the bar. “You don’t seem too bothered by that.”

“No real reason to be, is there?” the fisherman said kindly. “We get all kinds here, really. But Homon is nothing special, the people aren’t rich and we don’t really have anything of interest to pirates.”

“Besides the beer,” one of his mates laughed.

Bluegilly eyed the trio of cheerful fishermen. “Seriously. Nobody’s ever given you trouble?”

“Eh, maybe once in a while,” one of them replied, shrugging, “but it’s so rare that it’s not even worth worrying about from day to day. I mean, if you think about it, the chances of even seeing a pirate crew in this part of the sea is pretty slim. They’d have to be following one of the specific routes toward the end of the Grand Line, and from what I hear there’s more than one of those so not everybody is even going to pass this way.”

Ideo gathered that these were exactly the type of folks to have the information he wanted on the route ahead, so he leaned closer. “Any idea what’s ahead of here?”

“Not really,” the first man said honestly, tipping back his mug. “We don’t go out into the wider ocean, we stick close to home. The fishing’s great and the weather’s perfect, no reason to go looking ahead.”

“What’s your log pose say?” another wondered.

The two pirates shared a look and decided to be forthcoming, exchanging what they knew for what they wanted to know. “That’s the funny thing,” Ideo said. “Two of the needles have been almost fixed for a few days now, one to the north and one to the south. It’s like each one picked up a different island and won’t show anything else.”

“Sounds like what other visitors say,” the third fisherman said with a sage nod. “Might want to ask around some of the older folks, who’ve been out to sea further than anyone else. They might know what it means.”

“Ah, yeah, there’s some old salts down by the harbor who’d be able to talk about that,” his comrade agreed.

“Yeah, all right. Thanks,” Ideo added with a nod and a raise of his tankard to them.

Since they weren’t in a hurry, he and Bluegilly lingered long enough to enjoy their drinks and have a good look around, but they didn’t provide the celebrating fishermen any further entertainment, so they were able to pass the time without anyone making further conversation and then slipped back through the throngs of townspeople toward the harbor. Some of the passersby gave them a double-take now and then, but it was more than likely due to their physiques – a tall Longleg with his best feature on display below short-shorts and a muscled Longarm with weird-looking shoulders – than their pirate jackets. No one looked askance, though, they simply noted the curiosity and went on with their day. Ideo was used to the looks even on the tournament circuit, he paid it no mind so long as no one was glaring or recoiling in fear. “Homon,” Bluegilly said to break the long silence at that point, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Wonder if they named it that because it’s such a down-home sort of place.”

“Those guys are right, there’s nothing the average pirate crew would want with a place like this,” Ideo said with a bit of a laugh. “Rustic, out of touch, no treasure to plunder and not even a single rich family worth shaking down for money. No wonder the people aren’t afraid. You’d have to be a real jackass to make a ruckus here for no reason.” He looked around as they came to the top of one of the streets winding back down to the harbor. “I really want to find someone who can explain the log pose to me. I want to know what we’re in for.”

“Worried?” Bluegilly teased him, waiting for him to pick a direction and then following a step behind.

“The opposite. I wanna know if there’s anything good and dangerous ahead for real.” Ideo flashed him a daring grin. “We’ve had it pretty easy so far all things considered. We need some bigger challenges if we’re gonna get stronger – us and the new guys.”

“Oh, so that’s your goal, here. Yeah, I can get behind that,” his vice-captain said casually, squinting up at the afternoon sun. “It’s been a little too quiet for a sea they call Hell.”

“Seriously,” Ideo snorted, leaving it at that as they passed a few fishmongers’ stalls and drifted along an adjoining pier to check things out. The Triple-X sloop was one of the largest ships currently docked, though a couple did have the look of merchant vessels rather than fishing dinghies and they finally noticed other visitors busy at inspecting their hulls or bartering for services with the locals. There was a harbormaster’s stall at the junction of the biggest piers where the man bearing such a title was enthusiastically holding court with a number of pilots and captains wanting to know where to find a handyman to do quick repairs or whether a replacement anchor could be had at this backwater little island. The Ideo Pirates had no need of such things, their ship was in good shape and Ideo was right, they hadn’t seen worse than rough seas for a time. He couldn’t say whether the rest of his crew felt the same about the lack of danger as he and Bluegilly, but it was his decision where to head next once they were full up on supplies and wearied of whatever small entertainments could be had on Homon. If he took them into the gates of hell itself, they would simply have to come along for the ride.

As they gave the waiting crowd around the harbormaster a wide berth, a certified genuine “old salt” sitting on a barrel beside the stall started and sat up, clearly taking interest in them as they passed. “Oh! You must be with the pirate ship, I see you’ve got the flag on your shirts,” he called out to them. “Need any sails mended or decks scrubbed? I know a few young bucks who could use the hard work and the money.”

Ideo grinned lazily at his audacity. “No thanks,” he said coolly, “we’ve got crewmates who need to do their chores and not hire out somebody else for it.”

The old man cackled in amusement. “True that! Can’t blame a man for tryin’, though.” He crooked a finger, gesturing them closer; there was no reason not to comply. “You don’t look like the usual toughs who come sniffing around Homon,” the salt went on, sizing them up with keen eyes buried deep in a face so weatherbeaten it might have been made of pure leather. His gaze lingered over-long on Bluegilly, and even took an extra second to note the tattoo on his thigh. “It’s been a real long time since I’ve seen a Longleg in person. What brings you pirates to Homon? Let me guess – following the log and stumbled on the island where you least expected it.”

Both pirates blinked. “Yeah, actually,” Ideo said in interest. “Sounds like you know more than the fishermen about how to read a log pose.”

“Oh, aye, I’ve been out in the New World,” the wizened little man admitted, “but not so much since the start of the Age of Pirates. You’re not gonna get too much farther if you can’t read a log, I hope you kids got a good navigator.”

Both of them made a noncommittal face. “So what’s the deal with Homon?” Bluegilly asked, sidestepping his query. “Does it matter that it didn’t show up on the log pose?”

The old salt squinted at him again, this time more like a parent trying to determine whether a child is lying to them about cleaning their room. “You know what the needles on the log pose point to, don’t you?”

“Danger,” Ideo said bluntly. He was well aware, and it was one of the things that always sprang to mind whenever he had cause to glance at their ship’s log pose. “So if there’s nothing even remotely dangerous here, it won’t show.”

“There you go,” the old man said with a wink. “Though that’s only half of it. A great navigator can interpret the sea in every direction the needle _doesn’t_ point. Anyway, you don’t have anything to worry about here, Homon has a little pull on the log but not much. It’ll set in half a day but I don’t expect you’ll see much change when it does. It’ll still be pointing in those two directions, so the safe path is to keep ‘em at an even distance on either side.”

“And what if you don’t want to take the safe path?” Ideo’s brown eyes glinted eagerly. “The mark on our backs isn’t about playing it safe.”

The old man snorted. “Pirates. That kind of attitude can get you killed, you know.”

“It’s always possible,” Ideo countered. “So, what, then? There’s two possible routes out there, each one apparently just as dangerous as the other for the log to be split like that. What do you know about them?”

“Not a damn thing.” The little man scuffed a hand through his grizzled gray hair, looking casual and unaffected. “And that’s not a line I’m sellin’, either. I really don’t know what those two points are, I’ve never been eastward from Homon.”

“Not even back before the Age of Pirates?” Bluegilly pressed.

“Not even then,” the man confirmed with a slow shake of his head. “Wish I could help you kids, but I’ve only ever been west and south. I can tell you all the best tricks for keeping your rigging from snapping in the shitty weather in this sea and even how to ride some of the turbulent currents without losing your rudder, but for the life of me I can’t tell you what those dangers are. Only that the cautious, even pirates, take the log’s word for it and steer straight down the middle.”

Ideo frowned in confusion. “Is there anyone else on the island who’s been that way or might have heard from someone what lies out there?”

The old salt contemplated it for a moment. “I know damn near just about everybody on Homon who’s ever trod the decks, but I don’t think any of them would know. Unless one of the other visiting ships has been back from there, but that’s the thing.” He gave first one, then the other a wary look. “Hardly anyone comes back this way from the east. Pirates like you fellows, they’re all headed east following their log poses to the end of the Grand Line. Whether they take sound advice and give these dangers a pass or whether they try one of ‘em out, either way, they don’t return westward. Either they make it through safe or they die trying, there is no coming back.”

Bluegilly turned his gaze to Ideo. “He’s got a point. Limping back here for help is for the weak.”

The captain met his eyes, trusting his shrewd assessment. “Still, it might do us good to ask around anyway. Just in case,” he added with a nod to the old man. “Rumors don’t always make it to every ear, even on an island this tiny.”

“Fair enough,” the salt nodded. “If anyone’s gonna pick up that kind of noise, it’ll either be Dex, the harbormaster…” He thumbed over his shoulder at the man taking queries at the desk in the stall beside his perch. “…or Mako, the owner of the Lobster Claw.” He tipped his head the other direction in a gesture, and the two pirates looked up along the tiers of stone walls and streets to a bustling tavern with a big, weathered sign proclaiming the business name in peeling red paint. “Those are your best bets, but I wouldn’t put money down on either of them knowing more than what I do.”

Ideo gazed up at the sign, not at all surprised to see two of his crew walk into the bar at that very moment. “Thanks, old timer,” he said with a bit of energy, undaunted by the pessimistic warnings. “Information like that is pretty valuable, what do I owe you?”

The little old man threw back his head for another lusty cackle. “Kid, I ain’t never seen a pirate ready to pay up without first having to be browbeaten into it! You must be rookies.”

“Ouch,” Bluegilly retorted. “Is it that obvious?”

“Well, you’re tough-looking rookies if rookies you are,” the man giggled. “Don’t suppose you’d be willing to pick up a bottle of rum at the Lobster Claw for me? I kinda ran a tab I couldn’t pay and Mako won’t let me add to it.”

“Figures,” Ideo laughed in return. “Next time I’ll make sure to complain about the price first before I pay it.”

“You catch on quick,” the old salt grinned.

Seeing as they were already right there, they waited a bit for the harbormaster to have a moment free to chat, directly asking him if he knew anything about the islands ahead and why the log pose pointed to each one equally. Dex was as amicable as everyone else on the island but couldn’t help, either, though he did remember once some years ago that a ship did return westward in really bad shape, but docked only briefly and fled before anyone could get the full story. It was getting late in the day and the sun was sinking toward the treetops on the high hills of Homon, so the two captains decided to meet back up with Jeet and Abdullah to compare notes before striking out for the bar on the slope above the harbor. As luck would have it the two bounty hunters were on their way back to do the same and met up with them at the head of the quay, full of information of their own. They had already finished their shopping, some of it was being hauled back at that very moment by bored crewmates and the rest would be delivered in the morning. They had a line on a good restaurant as well as the island’s public bathhouse, so together the four core crewmates headed off to discuss their options over dinner.

As befitting an island with such robust fishing trade, the seafood was excellent at the homey little diner, though not enough to derail Ideo from sharing everything they had heard so far and then speculating over what might be ahead. Abdullah eyed him over his square glasses. “Let me guess, you want to pick one and charge right in there.”

“Oi, at least I’m trying to be intelligent about it, and learn more about the options before picking,” Ideo defended himself, pointing with his fork. “C’mon, we haven’t had a decent challenge in ages. We’re never going to be strong enough to back up Straw Hat if we keep going on the easy route.”

Bringing up the fleet and their savior always had the effect of taking the four of them out of their day-to-day routine and grounding them in the real reason they were out there, the whole basis behind their crew. It wasn’t as though they hadn’t seen any trouble at all, but glimpses they got through the newspaper of what their savior was up to set a high standard that they had to live up to – and wouldn’t, unless they worked a lot harder and took more risks. Bluegilly nodded in complete agreement. “It really is just knowing enough to know which option to take. It’s not so much which one is easier, but more like, which one is more suited to us. Or sounds more fun.”

“I don’t want to take all our guys in there and get ‘em all killed by one of the Four Emperors or something,” Ideo admitted, “but Bluegilly has it right. I wouldn’t want the challenge to turn out disappointing, either.”

“So you’re actually looking for the bigger challenge,” Jeet noted with a quick bark of a laugh. “You really do take after our boss, don’t you, Ideo?”

The Longarm grinned widely, and a bit proudly at being compared to Luffy. “Maybe just a little bit.”

“So the guy in the harbor said, there might have been one ship once that came running back this way with their tails between their legs,” Abdullah mused while he chewed on a crab cake. “But other than that, nobody has stories of these dangerous islands out there. Not surprised. Like Bluegilly said before, pirates who try to backtrack out of the New World are dead men.”

“We’ve seen it with our own eyes,” Jeet picked up for him, leering darkly. “They only get so far before losing courage and wanting to go back to Paradise, but it’s not so easy. Going back is almost guaranteed death. Going forward may be a struggle, but at least you’re still alive.”

“There is no path through life except forward,” Ideo said wisely. “Just like sailing the Grand Line to the end.”

“And for us, forward means into danger,” Bluegilly added. “It’s not just us who need to get stronger, it’s our new guys, too.”

Abdullah considered the conversation he had had with the men that morning. “They’re good guys, you know. The newbies. Find out what you can and choose wisely, so they can show you what they’ve got.”

Ideo tossed his head in a sort of shrug. “I’m not worried about them. If they want to measure up, they gotta be able to keep up with me. I can’t coddle and protect them, that’s not how this works.”

“I know,” Abdullah assured, “that’s not what I’m saying. They’re looking for their chance to prove themselves to you, Champion, so make sure you don’t deprive them of that opportunity.”

The captain gazed at him, uncertain. “They are…?”

“You don’t know them very well yet, huh?” Jeet noticed. “Yeah, they kind of idolize you. And Bluegilly, by extension, since the two of you are joined at the hip.”

Bluegilly blushed very faintly, though he was sure no one, not even their two closest comrades, knew of the actual bond between captain and vice-captain. “That’s not a good way for a crew to follow their captain,” he fretted. “It’s not like they have to win his favor or anything.”

“It is what it is,” Ideo said quietly, in effect brushing the concern aside. He didn’t want to dwell on it, mostly because he didn’t want the very thing Bluegilly mentioned. He was done with hangers-on and starry-eyed fans, his crew needed to be a real pirate crew like their benefactors the Straw Hats, where everyone looked after everyone else. “You know what? I like the idea of visiting the bathhouse. I don’t care how public it is, I could go for a real bath. Might as well take advantage of it while we’re here.”

“Do that before you go out drinking,” Abdullah chuckled. “I don’t want to hear how you passed out in the bath when the heat gets to your boozed-up brains.”

They finished up their dinner and then stepped outside to find the stars already winking to life in the twilight above them. The bounty hunter pair had no interest in the bath, so they figured to go on ahead to this Lobster Claw down the street and maybe get a head start on sniffing out any rumors about the dangers ahead on their route. Ideo and Bluegilly took their directions the other way to the public baths, wanting to get that done while they were still alone with each other. They hadn’t seen hardly any of their new crewmates since landing, but that couldn’t last forever. They found the rustic building easily, notably by the steam rising from the vents on the roof. It was a long, low structure of stone that reminded them both in some way or another of home, well-lit with lanterns outside and lamps inside. It had the well-worn feel of heavy use combined with regular upkeep, a place just as popular and important to the locals as a tavern. A few people were going in and out as the pair of pirates strode up, and the owner welcomed them brightly. As a public utility it was free to use, but if they needed towels or lockers it would take but a few beli coins to get them set up. Here, at long last, both of them went suddenly shy and cautious, and took their time getting set up and disrobed, because there would be no hiding their unusual bodies in the bath. They lingered until they were certain no one else was in the washroom and then went in alone, so as to have that time to scrub and wash without a lot of stares at their long arms and legs. Ideo also didn’t like other people seeing him with his hair down, for his own reasons, so he took advantage of the moment and fully untied it to be washed before anyone else could see it, and then wrapped it up into a thick towel like a turban perched securely on top of his head. So long as no one else came in, it was like any moment they had aboard the ship, lightly teasing each other, eyes following each other no matter how they moved about the small room. They finished up, wrapped towels around their waists, and then took a deep breath before finally pushing through the door which separated washroom and men’s bath. There were a couple of townsfolk in there, older men mostly, and they couldn’t stop themselves from naturally double-taking at the sight of a Longleg and Longarm walking towards them. Yet, in keeping with the prevailing attitude of all of Homon all day long, they smiled in welcome and didn’t ask prying questions, they simply accepted the two men into their bath and went back to the conversation they had been having.

Steeled for the usual reaction, Ideo was glad to be able to relax and not have to feel self-conscious on full display in front of strangers. He and Bluegilly discreetly slipped into the hot water and sat down to enjoy it, and the locals gave them time to do so before making small talk, figuring them for visitors and wondering how they were liking Homon so far. Even with merchants and other traders from nearby islands stopping by, they explained that the little, unsophisticated island didn’t get frequent visitors and might often go days or weeks without any foreign ships in the harbor. Pirates were even more rare, and like everyone else, the men were simply pleased and mildly curious that these two belonged to the pirate ship now docked below and didn’t press them for more information. It was such an openly friendly reaction that both Ideo and Bluegilly really had to wonder about this place for the hundredth time that day. The locals reached their limit first, since they had already been in the bath for a while, so they waved and wished their nonplussed visitors a good night before leaving them alone. The two pirates shared a long, quizzical look before Ideo shook his head. “This place is weird. But a good weird.”

“You know what they remind me of? The Tontatta,” Bluegilly chuckled. “Always there to give you something or help you out for no reason other than the goodness of their hearts, wanting nothing in return.”

“Except a bottle of rum,” Ideo reminded. “Don’t let me forget to do that.”

“I won’t.” Bluegilly stretched out one leg, hardly needing to exert himself to bring his toes up out of the water some distance away. “How long do you figure before we get interrupted?”

“Dunno…” Ideo looked over his shoulder toward the door to the washroom and then inched closer on the bench beneath the water. “Might as well get as much as we can before someone comes in.”

He didn’t even need to explain, Bluegilly was already tipping his head down to seek his lips. Ideo met him halfway, firmly and with a warm eagerness slowed a little by the haze of heat surrounding them in both water and air. Making out was one of their favorite joint pastimes, though it was hard to get the chance to be alone to indulge when their pirate life had them busy all over the ship all day long and sometimes all night if it was their turn to take watch. A perfectly lovely bath with no one else around was too tempting a scene to pass up, especially since it had the added benefit of already being naked. They wouldn’t get the chance to fool around much more than that, though. A few long minutes of kissing came to a sudden halt as Bluegilly drew back enough to turn his head a degree to the left, eyes absently searching the rafters while he listened and then snapping back to Ideo’s face with a frown of disappointment. Ideo took the cue and leaned back, sliding both arms fully under the water so that if the noise behind the door resolved into more strangers, they wouldn’t notice anything unusual. Bluegilly groaned quietly under his breath, but had hardly eased himself away from his companion when the door to the washroom opened and several people tumbled noisily out. To their chagrin, it turned out to be four of their crewmen. Both of them turned to notice this over their shoulders even as the foursome caught sight of them. “What do you know?” one of them laughed, ribbing another with an elbow. “Jeet was right, they are still here.”

“Captain! Bluegilly!” another crowed in greeting. “How’s the water?”

“Pretty damn good,” Bluegilly replied, breaking into a bit of a grin. “So you slobs decided to make good on the bathhouse too, huh?”

“Beats waiting in line for a cold shower,” one admitted, folding a towel to rest on his head while the others stepped down into the hot bath and hooted at the shock of heat. As much as they all knew how nice it was to even have a shower aboard their ship, there was never enough actual hot water for any one man, let alone ten. “Nice turban, captain.”

Ideo stood down his wariness and dragged his arms out of the water, resting his upper elbows on the lip of the bath behind him. “What have you guys been up to all day?”

“Oh, you know,” one replied, sitting on the rim to let his feet adjust to the temperature first. “Wandering around, looking for good food and a good drink. There’s a big tavern by the water, I wanna go back after this.”

“Yeah, only because the bartender suggested the girls might be more interested in a clean pirate over a smelly one,” his friend teased.

“We haven’t seen much of you guys, either,” the fourth of their number noted. “I guess being captain, you’ve got actual work to do while we see the sights.”

“Not that there’s a lot of sights to see,” another retorted.

“We’ve been busy,” Bluegilly affirmed, “but it’s nothing big, really. Hitting the tavern after this sounds like just the thing.”

All four of them were finally in the water, oohing and aahing over the simple relief of a clean, hot bath. One of the men looked across and blinked. “Whoa. You know, I think this is the first time I’ve actually seen the captain’s real arms.”

“You’re right,” another said in awe, “me too.”

“Huh?” Ideo stared back, finding all four of them gazing in wonder at him. “What’re you talking about, my arms have always been real.”

“But you never go around with them stretched out like other Longarms,” the first man noted, doing his best not to sound accusing. Rather, he was interested by this observation. “Around the ship you’ve always got one of your jackets on, with them tucked all the way up in the sleeves. I’ve honestly never seen them normal until now.”

“Really?” Ideo glanced at his right arm; even with his upper elbows leaning on the rim of the bath, his double-jointed arms were long enough that his hands were still fully submerged. “I mean…it’s kind of a force of habit,” he tried to explain. “I’ve always kept them in my sleeves no matter where I went, in and out of the ring.”

“No disrespect meant, captain,” one assured. “We’re just, you know, fascinated.”

Their fawning made him just as self-conscious as the polite inquiries from the townsfolk earlier, Ideo sank down a little into the water and dropped his eyes. “I told you guys, you don’t have to call me ‘captain’ all the time. Just Ideo is fine.”

“You know,” Bluegilly said with a wise air, drawing up a foot onto the bench so that his knee stuck well out of the water like a mountain, “it’s not such a great mystery. He’s just keeping the Destruction Cannon primed to fire at all times. We’re pirates now, guys, we always gotta be ready to fight at a moment’s notice.”

“Have you seen them down before?” one asked him.

“All the time,” the vice-captain answered with a flip of his hair, like it was no big deal at all. “We share a cabin, and it’s not like he sleeps with them bunched up.”

Ideo glanced his way, only just then realizing that they were all correct. He only let his long arms hang out naturally at night or in the shower, so of them, only Bluegilly had ever really seen him like that, and even if they weren’t involved with each other he would still earn that right by nature of being a best friend and the one man Ideo truly trusted with everything. It seemed odd, contrasted against these eager new crewmates who had joined them out of a similar trust and yet were still being kept at a distance from him. He needed to think about that, but he wouldn’t be able to with everyone crowded around, joshing and chattering. Their crewmates had already moved from his revealed arms to the towering wrap concealing his wet hair from them. “What are you hiding under there, anyway?” one of them chuckled. “It can’t be that bad, can it?”

They all looked to Bluegilly to confirm or deny, but the Longleg was playing it cool and casual, acting like there was no mystery to be had at all. “You’re not missing anything, trust me,” he insisted. “It’s not like he’s got the One Piece up in there.”

“But that means you’ve seen him with his hair down and everything,” the first crewman pointed out. “How come you get to know all these things?”

“Leave it be. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Sorry captain – Ideo,” one of the others said sheepishly. “It’s just…we don’t know a lot about you, is all.”

“C’mon, let go and let your hair down for once,” another implored. “Literally.”

“Because you asked: no.” Ideo sat forward in preface to getting up, though he twisted around to grab a towel before rising. He wasn’t a modest man in general, but after all the prodding and questions, he didn’t really feel like letting them stare at his junk, too. “I’d better get out before I get a headache from the heat. You guys have a good time, maybe we’ll meet up in the tavern in a bit.”

The four made some noises of disappointment, concerned that they might have driven him away by being too nosy, but then Bluegilly likewise stood up and swiftly wrapped a towel around his waist. “Good point, I hadn’t realized how long we’d been in here. Catch you guys later.”

They ducked back into the washroom, now completely deserted as there weren’t many locals who would want to be just starting their bath so late at night, and Ideo shot the door one last suspicious look before finally unwinding the towel and letting his long hair cascade down his back. He shouldn’t have cared so much about such a dumb thing, but he didn’t let anyone except Bluegilly see him with his hair unbound, not even Jeet and Abdullah, and even that had taken a long time for him to decide to allow. His violet-black hair was thick and tended to turn frizzy if he left it out of the ponytail too long, and even now it was starting to kink in places despite still being thoroughly damp. Fortunately, being afforded this level of trust meant that Bluegilly had learned exactly how he liked it tied, and without even needing to trade words about it stepped up behind him to begin combing it out for him. They had begun to add this little ritual to their private routine on board the ship, not only because it saved time but because Ideo had come to rather like it. It was a level of intimacy he’d never reached with another person in his life before. Bluegilly understood just how tightly to pull the whole mess back and secure it, and how to comb all that thick hair to keep it from tangling as he moved down, adding extra ties, leaving the one at the end for Ideo to do himself once he could sweep the whole queue over his shoulder. He could comb and tie his own hair if he had to thanks to his long arms, as he had always done until now, but he enjoyed letting Bluegilly help him with it while he dried off his limbs, so that both of them were finished and dressed at roughly the same time with everything in its place. The comfortable silence served to calm Ideo’s lingering irritation, and he showed no more sign of being troubled by their crewmates’ prying questions as they stepped out into the night to make the long walk back down toward the harbor.

The bathhouse was at the far end of the little village, and though it wasn’t a monstrously long walk to get back to where they wanted to be, it took time, and as they strolled Bluegilly tousled his damp hair so that it would stand up rakishly at all sorts of angles and dry that way. “So, the bar that guy was talking about…?” he prompted.

“Yeah, we should,” Ideo replied with a sigh. “Even though…”

He trailed off, and after a moment his comrade prodded him to finish. “What?”

“Nah, it’s nothing,” Ideo said quietly, shaking his head.

“You’re not still dwelling on what the guys said? They didn’t mean to be so forward…”

“It’s not that.” It was related to that, though, and for a bit he walked on in silence, turning over his choice of words in his head before saying anything. They came alongside one of the high retaining walls which bordered the twisting streets, protecting them from eroding the embankments, and Ideo decided on a whim to spring up on top of the wall. The view laid out before him was magnificent in the moonlight, the town dropping tier by tier toward the bristling forest of masts at the quay where every last ship and boat was tied up for the night. He sat down on the top of the wall and waited for Bluegilly to come up and lean his arms on it, so they could both enjoy the sight of a tiny fishing town at peace. “You were right. This is just a down-home kind of place, no matter where you call home.”

“It’s cute,” Bluegilly agreed, leaning right beside him in order to see what he could see. “Which makes it the wrong kind of place for guys like us. It’s too quiet.” He gestured with his chin toward a brightly-lit spot on one of the lower tiers of street. “Except for the Lobster Claw, of course.”

The tavern was about the only place on the entire island still bursting with light and energy, everywhere else was already dark as if the residents had all gone to bed with the sun. Ideo chuckled under his breath. “Yeah, there’s that. We’ll get there, there’s not really anything else to do now.” He sobered quickly, though, as his thoughts came to an intersection. “I just don’t wanna squash their fun.”

His comrade shot him a sidelong look of disbelief. “The crew, you mean? How are you gonna squash their fun?”

“C’mon,” Ideo reasoned, “the minute I walk in they’re all going to shush and go on their best behavior, because oh look, the captain’s here now. They do it all the time on the ship, it’s going to be even worse in a tavern where they’re all expecting to get drunk and obnoxious.”

Bluegilly looked longer at him this time, contemplating his explanation. “They don’t do that on the ship…do they?”

“More than you’d think.” Ideo heaved a sigh, sitting forward with hands dangling between his knees. “Conversations just stop when I walk by. Maybe they’re not doing it on purpose, but either way. I can’t join them or it’ll end the party on the spot, and I don’t want to do that to them. They deserve a little ruckus.”

Bluegilly slouched in order to rest his chin on his folded arms on top of the wall. “So it _is_ about what they were saying in the bath.”

“That’s just one example.” The Longarm tossed his head back toward the way they had come, regardless of whether their crewmates were still there or had already gone on ahead to the tavern to join the others. “No matter how many times I tell them not to call me ‘captain,’ they still do.”

“Well you _are_ the captain.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to be on some untouchable level compared to them.” Ideo frowned deeply to himself. “I accepted the responsibility when it was just the four of us, because someone had to and you said you didn’t want to, and turning us into the Ideo Pirates happened naturally out of that. Now that we’re a full-fledged crew, the new guys act like there’s this unspoken distance between us, like you and I are different on account of being introduced to them with titles.”

“You mean, like Jeet was saying earlier – how they idolize you and me.”

“Yeah. _That_.” The Longarm made a small noise of irritation. “I don’t want that.”

“What, then?”

“Well. Think back – we’ve hung around with a bunch of pirate crews, and the only one that ever acted like the captain was on some top level and everyone had ranks like the Marines was Orlumbus’ fleet. But that was because they were so huge, he could never be on a first-name basis with all four thousand of his guys.” Ideo lifted his eyes to the moon glazing everything with silver. “Bartolomeo’s crew wasn’t like that, they were all pretty close. And then there’s the Straw Hats themselves.”

“Oh, I get it.” Bluegilly couldn’t help but smile broadly at his rambling explanation. “You want a crew of friends, like the Straw Hat Pirates.”

“Like the four of us were before we took on more,” Ideo corrected, though his comrade wasn’t entirely wrong. “We all got along fine, but since we brought on the newbies, the dynamic around the ship has changed.”

“It’s not like that,” Bluegilly tried to assure. “Or, at least, it doesn’t have to be. We all just need time to get to know each other better.”

“We’ve had a month,” the captain snorted.

“A month in which we haven’t had the sort of deadly adventures that brought us together in the first place,” his partner reasoned. “Honestly, everything that happened on Dressrosa bonded you and me like nothing else. Jeet and Abdullah shared that experience so we all got on the same level pretty quickly. But the new guys haven’t gone through anything like that, on their own or with us. The scuffles we’ve been in have been easy for them to handle.”

Ideo nodded slowly; it wasn’t one of the reasons he had been so eagerly seeking danger, but now that it was out there, he considered it an additional, valid factor in his eventual decision. “I don’t want to have to put them through hell just to get them to start calling me by name,” he grumbled, “but if that’s what it takes…”

His vice-captain snorted under his breath, cocking a wry look up at him. “It’s funny, you talking about wanting to make friends. I always got the feeling that you had a hard time warming up to people no matter who they were.”

A flush crept across Ideo’s cheekbones. “You think so, huh?”

“You even treated me the same way, when we first met,” Bluegilly reminded him. “You kept me at arm’s length for a day until my relentless, sparkling charm finally won you over.”

That made Ideo laugh loudly and unexpectedly, the combination of his partner’s wit and the memory of their time spent cultivating a friendship inside the palace cheering him instantly. “You mean your bull-headed determination.”

“Same thing,” the Longleg said flippantly, flashing a quick grin. “It’s true, though. You weren’t interested in warming up to me at all. I guessed that you had your reasons. Like, one too many fans hanging on you, trying to get in good with you, when you first won the Central Fighting Championship – admirers wanting to bask in the shadow of your glory, wimps trying to get close enough to you to learn some tricks, challengers who wanted a piece of you, so on and so forth. Anybody dealing with that kind of attention would start pushing people away.” His expression grew more serious, though keen and understanding, as he fixed his eyes on Ideo’s face silhouetted against the night sky. “At the time, I wasn’t surprised at all. You didn’t have a reason to trust me, or any of the others. But I guess since then we’ve become such good friends that I sort of forgot that you were ever standoffish.”

Ideo looked sharply down at him, his brow knitting in disturbance. “Standoffish? Really?”

“That sounded harsh,” Bluegilly said, backtracking a bit. “Aloof, that’s a better word for it. I mean, you were a real loner before we joined up, weren’t you?”

“Maybe…” Ideo eased back, dropping his gaze back to his gloved hands in his lap. “You’re probably right. About all of that, I mean. Hearing that the new guys are all starry-eyed about us and want to prove themselves to us, it doesn’t help. I just want us to be a normal pirate crew like the others.”

“Don’t sweat it, Ideo.” His comrade shifted one hand to rap his knuckles gently against his thigh in reassurance. “Give it time. Eventually the other guys will figure out their place and we can all be just like the Straw Hats. I don’t think it’s something you can force, it’ll happen when it happens.”

“Yeah, I just hope we don’t have to go through another trial by fire like the one on Dressrosa in order to get us there,” the captain said dryly.

“Says the guy looking for which of the two dangers is more dangerous.”

“I’m just looking for a little trouble to liven things up. Now’s not the time to run up against another warlord and almost die.”

Bluegilly laughed softly and then leaned fully against his hip, tipping his head gratefully toward the gloved hand that came down to tousle his hair. “We’ll get there,” he promised. “It doesn’t have to be tomorrow, you know.”

They hung out there for a little while longer, since they were blissfully alone and could indulge in personal contact, but eventually they mutually decided that if they wanted to get that bottle of rum to thank their informant for all his valuable assistance, they’d better get moving and go do it, regardless of whether the rest of the Ideo Pirates were still in the tavern having their own kind of fun. By the time they got there, though, the place was already winding down for the night and only Jeet was still sitting with a tankard, listening more than talking to anyone. After Ideo put down the coin for a bottle, he got caught up on what the bounty hunter had already learned and then plied the bartender with a few direct questions. A brawny ex-Marine, Mako was far more knowledgeable than many residents of the island, but he also had never traveled specifically to one of the points indicated by the log pose. He was more than aware of the unusual phenomenon, but had to agree with the old salt in the harbor that no one came back westward to tell them any tales of what might lie just beyond the horizon. “There was the one,” he remembered, corroborating the harbormaster’s vague memory. “They were in real bad shape, lost half their crew and were limping along with nothing but shrouds for sails. One of their guys came in here asking about a doctor, and when I asked him how they got like that, all he said was something about a place called Mordis – literally didn’t want to talk about it, he was so shaken. Dex said they raised anchor and fled the next day, that was how badly they just wanted to get away and not revisit whatever happened to them.”

“Convenient,” Bluegilly sniffed sarcastically. “Nobody knows what’s out there except one ship and they weren’t telling.”

Mako shrugged hugely. “It happens sometimes. The New World can be that horrifying to a crew that isn’t prepared.”

“Mordis,” Ideo mused to himself. “No idea which one that was, either?”

“Not a clue.” Mako grabbed a few empty glasses from the bar and put them down to be washed. “I’m sure you already know that the safe route is to keep the needles even and pass straight in between, but you wouldn’t be asking me all this if you were planning on a safe route.” He eyed the Longarm and Longleg in their crew jackets, and then the bounty hunter at their side. “That choice is all on you. I’ve battled enough pirates to know that nobody’s gonna tell you what to do, you’re just gonna go and do it. I don’t have any advice, I’ll just say that I sincerely hope you don’t die.”

The bartender’s warning had little effect on Ideo or anyone in his crew. They passed an easy night onboard their ship and greeted the morning with the usual routine, cleaning and prepping and sparring while they waited for the last of the supplies Abdullah had procured to be delivered. Given that everyone had visited every place on Homon worth visiting the day before, no one had any reason to suggest lingering for one more bath or one more bottle. Ideo disembarked only to carry out his final remaining errand, delivering the rum and taking any last-minute idle advice the informative sailor and the harbormaster could offer. No one could dissuade him from pursuing adventure, and at this point no one even tried. By the time he returned everything was loaded and in place, so without any further fuss they unmoored and turned the ship out into the channel, catching a fine breeze to take them out to the open sea beyond.

Once underway with the green slopes of Homon shrinking behind them, Ideo gathered his crew to give them a chance to have a say in his plan. “We didn’t really find anything out, except that one island is called Mordis,” he said, standing with arms folded over his tattooed chest. “So we’re back at square one: deciding our course. Now, all of the happy, comfortable people back there suggested that we lay a course keeping the needles equal on either side, so that we don’t run into any danger.” He began to grin roguishly. “I don’t know about you but I’ve got no intention of avoiding danger.”

“So we get to decide,” Bluegilly put in for him. “North, or south?”

The crewmen looked among each other, intrigued and beginning to share their captain’s eager smirk. “Well, if it’s just two choices, then there’s one good way,” Jeet offered, digging into a pocket in his caftan and coming out with a coin. “Flip for it.”

“Sure, why not,” Ideo shrugged. “Heads we go north, tails we go south.”

Jeet snickered and tossed the coin in the air. All eyes followed it as it flipped end over end above them and then came down for Ideo to snatch out of the air and smack down onto the back of his opposite glove. All heads leaned in to see the results. “North it is,” Bluegilly announced. “Turn to port and set course to follow the needle.”

The crew collectively cheered the decision and scattered to do their jobs, hauling sails while Abdullah handled the wheel to put them on course. Ideo flopped into the comfy chair in the middle of the main deck – the one he had stolen from a Longarm noble – and looked like he was going to sit back and enjoy this trip. The stopover at Homon had only cemented the two unique courses, the third needle in their main log pose pointed straight ahead as if to wait for a course to be laid before it would change. The leftmost needle was the one they needed to follow to find out what lay to the north, and in time, the rear needle shifted to match it while the last needle still resolutely pointed south. What the Ideo Pirates didn’t know was that they had made a choice between man-made evils and disasters of natural origin. The island to the south was a place where land and sea and sky conspired to destroy anything that set foot there, or so it seemed. Between tides, weather, quakes, and deadly flora and fauna, few who traveled in that direction made it out unscathed, and the wrecks of the truly unfortunate piled along the rocky shores as a warning. No one lived there, the spring island had unusual swings in weather from wet, heavy snow to searing heat and the beasts gladly attacked anything that moved as a potential source of food, making it a great place for adventure but also death. Perhaps that was why someone chose to name it _Mordis_. No, the Triple-X crew followed fate to the north instead, where the threat was from their fellow man, where distant rumor had it that the island at the point of the log needle swallowed pirate crews whole without a trace.

  


It took a couple of days but at last land was spotted, and around midday they trimmed sail and coasted into a vaguely hospitable-looking harbor. The chunk of land visible from this side appeared mostly rocky with a little town clustered in a hollow that sheltered the harbor, but there were glimpses in the haze and cloud that suggested the island sloped upward from there. There was one other ship already docked, and it distinctly bore black flags and a snarling gargoyle of a figurehead. Ideo and Abdullah stood at the rail studying the town as they drew up while Jeet steered them in toward the quay. The buildings were all at least two stories, some three, narrow and shouldered up against one another, with signs for taverns and brothels scattered here and there along with stores and crafters, everything a pirate crew could possibly need. Everything had a slightly run-down air to it, though it was hard to tell if it was from actual lack of maintenance and residence or just because pirates and seafarers weren’t expecting anything fancy and the town decided to live up to that. It didn’t resemble Homon at all, but it had the appeal of any number of lawless, free towns where pirates could cut loose and go wild. Yet, as they came to a rest and dropped anchor, Ideo noted one important characteristic. “It seems deserted,” he murmured to Abdullah, his eyes searching for any sign of movement or life in the foremost shops lining the harbor.

“Yeah, it does,” Abdullah noticed, shifting his gaze to the other ship, a larger galleon sitting higher in the water than their two-masted sloop. “That ship’s in good shape, it looks like it came in recently, but it seems empty – like none of its crew stayed aboard.”

“Huh.” Ideo followed his gaze and frowned a bit. They might not have been the most experienced sailors, but even he knew the value of keeping a watch on the ship even when most of the crew went ashore. But no, there wasn’t a single soul on board, not even in the crow’s nest. “That’s kind of strange,” he muttered. “I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I.” Tense and wary, Abdullah tapped him lightly on the arm to get his attention. “The needles are both pointing here like they’re screaming a warning. Nothing is what it seems.”

“Right,” the captain acknowledged before stepping down and calling everyone over. “I don’t know what the deal is, here,” he said to preface his statement, “but if there’s anything interesting on this island, it’s going to be further inland. This town looks empty, just like that other pirate ship. Just to be safe, we should only send a small scouting party in, while the others stay back to keep an eye on our ship and watch our backs.”

Bluegilly stood beside him with his head turned toward the town, possibly watching but mostly making an attempt to sense anything useful. He hadn’t trained his newfound haki well enough to be able to pick out individual people and their strength levels, but he had a vague sense that the island was, in fact, inhabited. Where and by how many, he couldn’t say. “You and I should take the lead,” he said seriously. “We’re the strongest.”

“Jeet and I will hold the fort,” Abdullah decided. “This place has me suspicious, it’s too quiet. But…” He jabbed a finger toward Ideo. “Take a den-den mushi with you, I don’t want to be out of contact.”

There was some debate about the wisdom of letting the captain and vice-captain go in alone to scope things out, even if they promised to keep in touch with the remainder staying aboard the ship no matter what they found, and even Jeet joined in with those suggesting they take a couple others along. In the end, the crew split into three parties – four in the scouting party, another pair to investigate the other pirate ship, and the rest staying with Jeet and Abdullah to hold the pier in case of ambush. Once that was decided, Bluegilly tucked a mini den-den mushi into his jacket pocket and their group headed off. They set out along the main drag first, finding none of the shops open and no people in the immediate vicinity that they could see, but a sensation of being watched followed them wherever they walked, putting them on their guard. At the same time, the mystery of a town this size not appearing to have been abandoned for long, if at all, was adventure enough to keep them exploring. Even if no one was around, the windows were clean and the buildings looked moderately well-kept, there wasn’t anything indicating a lengthy abandonment like layers of dust and cobwebs on everything. Even the streets were smooth and moderately trafficked. Flowers in window-boxes were fresh and not overgrown, and any shop they peered into looked like it had only just closed for the day a few minutes ago. It became more and more strange the longer they explored, particularly since there was no sign of the crew of the galleon either. Even if something had happened and the town had been evacuated, what about the pirates who left their ship empty behind them? “Hope this place wasn’t evacuated because there’s some kind of disaster brewing,” Ideo murmured as they came around a corner and started up a wide street that led uphill. “Like a typhoon coming in or a volcano erupting or something.”

“There’s somebody here,” Bluegilly warned, looking every which way as they walked. “I can’t tell much more than that but it’s not totally abandoned.”

“I don’t see anybody, though,” one of their crewmates noted. “Are you sure, Bluegilly?”

“It doesn’t make sense that they’d all disappear,” Ideo reasoned before the Longleg could even answer, saving him from having to admit that he’d awakened his haki. “Even visitors.”

“Maybe there’s a festival in another town,” the other man said with a chuckle, “and they’ve all gone off to party.”

“That’d make some sense, at least,” the first said with a grin. “Captain’s got a point, but between volcanoes and festivals, I’ll take the fest…”

That was all he got out when a shot rang out from nearby and, in the same instant, he recoiled backward as if from a hit. The others froze in their tracks and shifted to put their backs to one another, even as their crewmate fell onto the street with a cry of pain, clutching his arm. Ideo looked down to see that he’d been shot, though not too seriously if he was still conscious enough to gnash his teeth at the pain. “Shit,” he snarled under his breath. “You okay?”

“Do I look okay?” the man shot back before biting down his panic. “Shit! Got me in the arm…”

“I didn’t see which direction it came from,” his comrade said urgently, glancing down to worry over the injury. “Did any of you?”

“No,” Bluegilly said in a low, dangerous tone. “Keep your guard up, they could be anywhere.”

“We’re in the open,” Ideo fretted, fists up, head swiveling this way and that to try and spot movement. “We’re sitting ducks for a sniper.”

“We walked right into a trap, didn’t we?” the other man said wryly.

Standing in a defensive circle around their fallen crewmate, the three of them did their best to try and spot who might have shot him, but there was no sign of any snipers on any rooftops, not even an open window on an upper floor of the nearby buildings. They didn’t have long to ponder, though, for within moments there came the thud of running feet and then a yell, and Bluegilly startled as the people he had sensed suddenly erupted out of every alley and through several doorways. Their wounded crewman got up to his knees, still clamping a hand around his bleeding arm, and then they were beset on all sides by an unexpectedly large force of men, some with guns, some with knives, and all of them yelling for no reason other than the thrill of battle. They had the rugged, raw look of thugs or bandits, though they very well could have been the missing pirate crew given their build and weaponry. At the very least they weren’t law enforcement, that was clear. Ideo kept his back to his other crewmates and drew back a fist to unleash a Destruction Cannon right away as soon as the foremost attacker came into range, and for a moment the others faltered, not at all expecting the explosion. Their hesitation cost them, as Bluegilly leaped and twisted to sweep a bunch of them down with one good kick, and the others lit into the gawking stragglers from right and left. Winged as he was, the injured one relied on the others to protect him until he could knot a bandanna over the wound and finally back them up with his own combat skills, drawing his pistol from his waistband.

The swarm of thugs recovered from that initial first hit and came back at them in a wave, leaping over their injured comrades and engaging their victims at close range, shots going off here and there at risk to hitting their own men in such a thick melee. Ideo planted his feet and went into a tight boxing stance, rapid-fire punches radiating in all directions and fending off anyone who got too close. The two crewmen on either side of him had weapons – one was fairly competent with a saber, the other supplemented his martial arts with pistols – and held their own alongside their leaders to a point. Yet, there didn’t seem to be an end to the gang surrounding them, whether they got back up and kept fighting or fresh reinforcements poured in from somewhere else. Given their organization and determination, not to mention the lack of any identifying jolly roger mark on any of them, Ideo guessed they were bounty hunters of a sort, attacking any pirates that landed in the hopes that they might be able to collect on something. Individually most of them couldn’t lay a hand on the captain and vice-captain fighting at their best, but together as a gang they were able to keep the four Triple-X members from claiming anything like an easy victory. Neither side could gain the upper hand, the fight began to drag out longer than anyone expected. Seeing that they weren’t getting anywhere, Ideo shouted over his shoulder at his crewmates. “I’m going to make a gap. You three run, get through and get to the ship! I’ll follow right behind you.”

All three shot him a wary look in response, but they knew he was right – it was easier to just make a break for it than keep fighting for a definite victory. Ideo was facing the downhill slope of the road, it was the best route for escape at the moment. They nodded in agreement, and threw themselves into one last-ditch assault to distract their attackers while Ideo drew back and primed for another Destruction Cannon. A thickset gang member rounded up some of his guys and encouraged them to follow him in, charging straight up toward their intended victims and headfirst into the explosive punch. The rest halted in their tracks as he came flying backwards, smoking slightly, and startled as the Longleg and two more burst through the pall of dust and smoke and blew past them in a hurry. Ideo threw a second Destruction Cannon behind him at the place where Bluegilly had been a moment before to clear the pursuit before taking off after his crewmates, catching up immediately and exhorting them to book it for the ship. The island was of no more interest to them, if all it held was a trap laid by bounty hunters. There were still a few hunters in their way, and more were starting to converge on the spot just down the hill where they’d all be able to meet and continue the fight. There was a warning yell behind them, then a deeper boom of artillery and the clatter of something hitting the ground and bouncing a few times between the feet of the fleeing pirates. Bluegilly skidded to a stop as something metal ricocheted up near his foot, and then everything seemed to happen all at once: the object exploded, two people plowed into him from behind, and the thugs on the street ahead of them scattered. Fortunately, it wasn’t a bomb; rather, a gust of nigh-invisible gas burst out from the canister and swept around them. Coughing and choking, their two companions staggered and then fell to their knees, even as their leaders covered their faces with their arms, doing their best to bury their noses and mouths in their sleeves in order to fend off the gas. “What the hell?” Ideo exclaimed, his voice muffled in the crook of his elbow.

“Don’t breathe it,” Bluegilly admonished, even though it was obvious by now and the thugs who had backed off were hurrying to don masks and keeping their distance. Their two crewmates collapsed, then, and the pair of captains tried to back up as well, get out of the range of the gas if they could. A masked thug came at them with his sword held high, forcing both of them to turn and deal with it. He went down easily, but the exertion cost them – they couldn’t hold their breath that long, after all. Both turned to take out as many as they could, but in time even they began to weaken, stumble, and reel. Ideo curled an arm over his face again even as Bluegilly dropped beside him, grabbing onto his belt to try to stay upright just a little longer. He passed out still on his knees, flopping face-first onto the street. Ideo wobbled and then fell half on top of him, still able to hear the tread of feet circling around them for a few moments before he, too, blacked out like the others.

It took a bit for the gas to disperse enough for the gang to cautiously approach their vanquished foes, though the ones with masks went in first, gingerly prodding the unconscious bodies with a toe to verify that they really were out. The stocky man who had taken a Destruction Cannon in the face came over with a kerchief tied over his nose and mouth, nodding and gesturing to the others to direct them to tie up the unconscious pirates. He prowled up to the Longleg and pointed enthusiastically at his legs, and then bent to try to heave Ideo off of him to show his team what he was so excited about. As he did, he got a poor hold of that sleeve and yanked it until the Longarm’s extra joint popped free of the shoulder of his jacket. All of the gang members paused at the sight, and then began to clap each other on the back and cheer. They had discovered something incredible with their prey, and rushed to bind up the two of them. Just the two of them, though. The injured man and his likewise unremarkable crewmate, they left lying in the street unconscious and hurried to get the other two away before any of them woke up.

Ideo came around to find himself in a rather uncomfortable position with his face pressed to a cold stone floor, but when he attempted to push himself up, he realized his arms were stuck behind him somehow. Tugging at the obstruction elicited a metallic clink, at which point he snapped fully awake and twisted to look and see if what he suspected was in fact true. One of his arms had been wrenched free of his sleeve, leaving his double joints at an odd angle, but there was no doubt – his wrists were shackled behind his back. A shift of his legs found his ankles also bound with chain. He rolled over to find Bluegilly a few feet away in the same cell, still somewhat senseless but in a matching situation with an extra length of chain wrapped around his long legs to keep him from bending them. There was also a thick metal band around his neck, which made Ideo worry that he might also have one; he tipped his head downward until his chin bumped against an obstacle which shouldn’t have been there. So, whoever had finally managed to subdue them really didn’t want them getting free, it seemed. A quick glance told him that they were being held in a prison cell in a stone building, probably about ten feet across and faced with a wall of iron bars, beyond which the main room lay mostly in dim darkness where details were hard to come by. None of the rest of their men were with them, although there was always the possibility that they were in another cell out of sight. The jingling of his bonds got Bluegilly’s attention, he blinked his eyes slowly open and laid there for a moment silently sussing out his limitations and observing Ideo in turn before picking his head up. “What happened, where are we?” he rasped, and then coughed.

“Dunno.” His loose arm was making the other one uncomfortable, but no matter how much he wriggled around Ideo couldn’t improve the situation much or get himself into a sitting position. He gave up quickly and decided to rest instead, giving his companion a quick once-over to make sure he wasn’t in any danger otherwise. “You hurt?”

“No. You?”

“Don’t think so.” Ideo rattled his chains again and stretched out, verifying that he hadn’t suffered so much as a bruise in the fight. “Just a little groggy from the whatever it was they hit us with.”

“Knockout gas.” There was a scrape of a chair and a footstep beyond the cell, as someone noticed them talking and came over to see for himself. Taller and thickset, neither pirate remembered seeing him among the melee in the streets earlier. He was rather well-armed and looked like he meant business, though a smug look came into his eyes as he beheld his prisoners. “Packs a hell of a punch, doesn’t it? Don’t worry, it doesn’t have any lasting effects. You two were giving my boys too much trouble, we had to take you down before you could take them all out.”

Ideo glowered up at him from over his bared shoulder. “What the hell is this about, then? If you’re looking for bounties you’re going to be sorely disappointed, we haven’t gotten any yet.”

“Shut up,” the stranger demanded curtly. “You’re in no position to ask questions or get answers, now. Just sit tight.”

A cluster of people drifted in from a doorway across the room, one of them carrying a ledger book and the rest armed and slightly bandaged. “I heard voices,” one of them remarked, “does that mean they’re awake? Oho, look at that.” The man who had led the assault on them bellied up to the bars of the cell, gloating enthusiastically. “Ain’t that a sight? What a prize.”

“A Longarm _and_ a Longleg, just like you said,” the man with the book said eagerly, making some marks in his ledger. “This is our lucky day.”

“What are they worth, anyway?” someone asked him.

The bookkeeper flipped back to another page. “Both kinds are able to pull a starting bid of seven hundred thousand, minimum,” he reported. “These days, I’d say it might be closer to a million. These two…” He arched an eyebrow over his ledger at the two men in the cell glaring daggers at him. “…given how strong they are, will easily fetch us at least ten million each. Maybe more if we can market them as a pair.”

“I’ve never seen a Longarm and a Longleg hanging out together,” another in their company mused, pushing past the gang leader to come peer through the bars. “Usually they’re trying to kill each other, this is really strange. Think they’re that crew’s hired muscle or something?”

Ideo bristled, bracing himself on his free lower elbow to get himself partially sitting. “I’m the _captain_ of the Ideo Pirates,” he snarled at them. “And if you’ve done anything to my crew, I’ll kill the lot of you.”

“Ooh, captain,” the gang leader mocked him, laughing. “Whatever, it’s not like it matters. Your days at sea are over, Longarm.”

“Ideo…” Bluegilly spoke in a hush under his breath tinged with worry, and as his comrade looked his way, he could see a shade of fear behind the rage in his blue eyes. “They’re slave traders.”

Ideo stared at him, and then cast a wary look up at the group of men, who were more interested in their own discussion than in anything their captives had to say. The thickset man who had been on guard turned away from the cell and folded his arms over his chest. “So what’s the plan, then? What are the options?”

“I guess it depends on whether anyone up in Altamarin is interested in Longlegs and Longarms,” the head thug suggested. “Or has that kind of money. We could just ship ‘em off to auction ourselves and see how much we can rake in for ‘em, it’s not like Scarlucci is going to say no to potentially twenty million in his pocket.”

One of the well-bandaged men whistled low. “That’s a nice chunk of change for one day’s work.”

“I mean, it’s not bad,” another said warily, “but it’s nowhere near what a fishman or a giant would fetch.”

“If you want to go fight a giant, be my guest,” the taller man grunted. “There’s more than one reason these creatures are rated what they are. It’s not just that they’re exotic, they’re also rare.”

The bookkeeper nodded sagely. “Like giants and fishmen, Longarms, Longlegs, and other species are hard to come by on a regular basis. You can’t just go to their native island and hope to pick one up, they’re usually surrounded by too many others and you’ll get caught before you can even get back to your ship.”

“And get your ass beat,” one of the others laughed.

“Right,” the bookkeeper acknowledged. “So your best bet is to catch one elsewhere, as long as you’re strong enough to take them down. But Longarms and Longlegs don’t come packaged together, most of the time we’d be lucky to come across just one kind. We can’t just sit around and wait for another chance like this to come along, because the odds of a Longarm and a Longleg _together_ coming into our hunting grounds again is one in a billion.”

“Don’t some live in Tottoland?” another thug remembered.

The big man laughed loudly. “If you want to risk Big Mom’s wrath by kidnapping people from her territory, you go right ahead. If there’s anything left of you to scrape together and hold a funeral for, I’ll do the honors.”

“There was some to-do around there not too long ago,” the bookkeeper warned, “things are still in a state of chaos. But even so, I wouldn’t go into Big Mom’s territory just for the chance to net some rare species. It’s suicide.”

“Then we _really_ lucked into a huge score, didn’t we?” yet another gang member said in awe. “Worth millions, he says. Do you have any idea what we could do with that kind of money?”

“Even split between everyone in the gang,” another agreed, “that’s real money. More than a bottle of booze and a new hat.”

“Not if they get sold to someone in Altamarin,” yet another groused. “The nobles have money, sure, but they don’t have ‘ten million beli’ kind of money to blow on slaves.”

“But if we want to take them to get sold to Celestial Dragons, we have to go through the boss,” the bookkeeper argued. “He’s got the ship we need for that kind of journey.”

The gang leader turned and sneered in his face. “Yeah, but Scarlucci’ll take the biggest cut of the price for himself! We’d do much better if we sold ‘em directly and left him out of it.”

“With what ship?” someone else shot back.

“There’s the one in the harbor from the last crew we caught and sold,” yet another reasoned. “And if this one’s right and they’re pirates, they’ll have a ship, too.”

“Right, like you lot know anything about sailing a ship all the way to the Red Line,” the tall man, clearly the real leader of this group, scoffed at all of them. At his remark, most of them quieted, though one or two eyed him mutinously. “You barely managed to bring these two in and had to use the gas, you’ll never survive a journey on the high seas.”

The thug who had led the assault got in his face next, though he was considerably shorter and not at all helped by the bandages around his head. “Don’t go thinking we had any kind of actual trouble with these bastards,” he countered with hands on hips. “We just used the gas because it was fastest. It was nothing serious.”

One of the underlings snickered under his breath. “I dunno, you called out that order pretty soon after that Longarm landed a single hit on you. It looked like it hurt.”

Others who had been part of the melee backed him up with knowing grins and nods. The thug dismissed their observation with a toss of his head. “You don’t know nothin’. Don’t shoot your mouth off about what you don’t know.” He turned toward the cell and leered down at the two captive pirates, feeling far more confident with them in chains and a set of bars between them and himself. “We got ‘em in the end, and that’s all that counts, doesn’t matter how. Look at ‘em, trussed up like the catch of the day.”

“So he says they’re pirates,” another mentioned. “If that’s true, the rest of their crew might make good prizes too.”

“The two that were with ‘em were just ordinary, though.” Yet another laughed smugly under his breath and elbowed a friend as if he were in on some joke. “We left ‘em to rot in the street where they fell.”

“Four can’t be all they’ve got in their crew – the rest must still be aboard their ship,” the bookkeeper said.

Most gazes turned toward the stocky head thug in charge of the ambush, who simply took their scrutiny with even more arrogant bluster. “Cut me some slack, I was in a hurry to get these valuable prizes off the streets and into a cell before they woke up. I didn’t have time to go down and see what else they’ve got.”

“If he’s really the captain, that means these two might be the strongest of their crew,” the man next to him countered. “The others are probably worth jack and shit, by comparison.”

The head thug laughed grossly. “Captain, hah! He’s just a savage creature.”

Ideo lunged forward, eyes blazing with a dangerous grin. “Why don’t you come in here and I’ll show you just how savage I can be.”

Undaunted, the real leader leaned on the bars of the cell. “Better be careful making that offer, given what some nobles use their slaves for.”

He didn’t want to appear cowed, but that sort of threat made Ideo shrink back a bit, still glaring but far more coldly now. The thug immediately behind his leader banged a fist against his palm. “That was it! The New World Central Fighting Tournament. This guy’s the champion! It’s the weird shoulders, I remember it now.”

His comrades turned and boggled at him. “This Longarm is a champion?”

“Yeah, and pretty big news, too,” the man went on excitedly. “We caught a boxing champion! That makes him even more valuable, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe,” the leader mused. “If you can remember any more about that, let me know. Scarlucci will want to hear about that, since it would increase their price. Either way…” He turned to face his gang, folding his arms. “I’m pretty sure he’d be pissed if he found out we had a Longarm and a Longleg and didn’t let him at least see them with his own eyes, so we’re going to pack them up and take them to Altamarin. Let him sort out the arrangements.”

“You sure about that?” the thug boss challenged. “I mean, whenever we run things past him, he always ends up with a bigger cut of the profits. We could always send ‘em to auction, pocket half, and tell him they only went for a couple million in the end.”

His boss eyed him darkly. “Do you really think a man as well-connected as Mr. Scarlucci wouldn’t find out about it? This isn’t a place where what someone doesn’t know won’t hurt us. He has access to records and news channels that we don’t. He’ll know, and _you’ll_ be at the bottom of the sea for stealing from him.” He swept a stern glare around the entire group of thugs. “We’re taking them to Altamarin, and that’s final. Let me handle the money situation – I’ll make sure he doesn’t settle for a wimpy million or two. The rest of you, decide what you’re gonna do. Our transport will need a security escort, but I don’t want to leave the town unmanned in case their crew comes looking for them. Some will have to stay here. Make your choice quickly, I want to be off as soon as it’s dark.”

He waved an arm to shoo everyone out, having had enough of the debate and demanding that they go somewhere else for the time being. He didn’t need his men gawking at the prisoners instead of doing their real work. He turned to shoot Ideo and Bluegilly a warning glare over his shoulder before moving off as well, catching up to the pack of men and selecting one to stand guard in his place so he could go handle more important matters. He was the last one out, closing the door behind him. The man left on guard flopped into a chair on the far side of the table in the center of the room, putting his feet up on the table and clearly not interested in the least in whether their prisoners talked or moved or did anything so long as it didn’t look like they were going to bash the door open. The only lamps still lit were by the doors on either end of the room, so most of the occupied cell was in darkness. Tired of being constantly angry and on guard, Ideo eased himself back down to lie on his side, and then Bluegilly wriggled and inched his way closer so they could talk in low tones. “This is a real pile of shit,” he grumbled. “When those guys on the last island were going on about danger, I imagined a million more interesting and deadly things than being caught by slave hunters.”

“We’ll get out of this,” Ideo vowed. “Somehow. They didn’t kill our guys, they’ll go back to warn Jeet and Abdullah and they’ll put together a plan to spring us. They won’t let us get taken.”

“I won’t let us get taken either,” Bluegilly said darkly. “I’ll fight until they rip my legs off, if it comes to that. But these damn collars…” He didn’t want to let fear get the better of him, but the explosive collars around their necks were the one true obstacle to simply getting free. The shackles and bars weren’t seastone, as far as he could tell, they could break out easily if not for the threat of having their heads blown off. 

Ideo noticed the flicker of real worry in his eyes as he trailed off uncertainly. “Kind of a weird place to find a slave-catching gang,” he said to try to keep their thoughts from turning to darker matters. “I thought they only operated closer to the Red Line, or places like Sabaody where they can get their money easily. We’re pretty far out from there, I can’t imagine what they’d be doing on an island like this.”

“Maybe it’s just our bad luck,” the vice-captain grumbled. “They were passing through same time as us. Although, there’s that other ship out there…”

Ideo tried to look over his shoulder, but the room beyond was nearly silent with the sort of great, empty feeling that suggested that aside from their cell and the guard, there was no one else in it. “You heard them talking. If these guys caught those pirates and enslaved them, what became of them?”

“Given their argument…” Bluegilly tried to roll onto his back, but was prevented from getting comfortable by his bound arms. “…either sold from here or taken to this other city and sold there. That would explain the empty ship, wouldn’t it?”

Ideo growled to himself. “Using cheap tricks like they do, drugging anyone too strong to defeat? It sure would.” He closed his eyes, already worrying about the rest of the crew. It didn’t matter how strong they were, if this gang would just shoot a gas canister on board the ship and then come on with masks to round up the unconscious pirates. Their entire crew, including Jeet and Abdullah, could be in dire straits this very instant. The only glimmer of hope seemed to be the haste with which they were being moved to another city. They wanted to get them away before the rest of the pirates caught up to them and took their captains back, so there was a chance they wouldn’t bother wasting time trying to capture anyone else. Their guys were strong, they wouldn’t just roll over and die if the gang came after them next. But would they know what to do? Would they foolishly rush in and get themselves captured as well? With no way to communicate, all he could do was trust that Jeet and Abdullah would put their crafty minds together and take care of it, though that left Ideo chafing at the inability to do anything for himself. Helplessness was a sensation he disliked immensely. His eyes drifted open and crossed to Bluegilly lying awkwardly half on his side, face slack with the distant expression of someone deep in the kinds of thoughts he didn’t want to entertain. “When you first crossed into the New World,” Ideo murmured to rouse his attention, “did you pass through Sabaody?”

Bluegilly’s eyes remained downcast toward the floor beneath his head. “Yeah. That’s where I heard about the collars. I didn’t see any Celestial Dragons myself, but there were some guys in a bar talking about it. How once they get a collar on you, you’re done for.” His wide mouth turned down in a sullen frown. “They actually warned me, or should I say, mocked me about it. Said I should watch my back if I didn’t want a collar around my neck, a Longleg roaming around alone with no one to save me from the slave hunters. I never saw any, though, I guess I just got lucky.”

Ideo had heard the tales, too, somewhere. It was sort of common knowledge to anyone who had made the passage to the New World that the world’s noble elite kept their slaves with explosive collars, an easy explanation for why so many powerful pirates and strong races like fishmen and giants surrendered rather than fight their way free. “I’ve never seen a slave with a collar, either,” he said in a low, heavy tone, “but…there was one time I brushed up a little too close to it. On Sabaody. When I was younger, before I set out for the New World Central tournaments.”

The Longleg lifted his gaze slightly and focused on his companion. “What did you see?”

Figuring his anecdote required more of an explanation, Ideo slowly dropped his eyes. “When I was about sixteen, I started to travel with someone from the gym, he acted as my manager in order to get me into little fights and tournaments around that end of the Grand Line. Eventually I got good enough and won enough that he tried me out for a real tournament at the arena on Sabaody. But before we landed, he told me I had to do something to hide my arms. Wouldn’t say why, but he was insistent to the point of saying he’d pull me out of the tournament if I didn’t comply.” He made a bit of a face, mostly to himself at the thought of how he’d acted back then. “I was young and stupid and thought winning was the only thing that mattered, so I gave in and went with it. I mean, he’d been honest and fair with me up till then, there had to be a reason, and I wanted to fight so badly that I did what he asked. That was the first time I tucked my arms up into the sleeves of my jacket, they were stretchy enough that even if it looked weird, it made me pass enough for a regular human.”

“Really.” Bluegilly hadn’t considered that any Longarms would go to that length, since he had always figured Ideo only did it for his signature move. “Was your manager a Longarm too, or…?”

“Yeah, actually. But he just wore a cloak and kept his arms under it,” Ideo explained. “I didn’t understand his urgency until just before the tournament, when I came across a flier for an auction to be held the day after. They were advertising two Longarms for sale.” His eyes glittered with the grim horror of the memory. “I’d only heard a little in passing about slavery before then, but that day I stared it in the face. But no one thought I was a Longarm, no one even really noticed except that my shoulders looked weird, so I was able to go around Sabaody safely without any threat of being captured and put on the block.” He sighed softly. “I never did find out if the ones at the auction were anyone I knew. It feels weird, thinking of that now. Like a lump of ice in my gut.”

Bluegilly nodded, because he felt the same way. “When I was younger I heard a story about somebody from our town who got kidnapped and taken away to be a slave. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but Longlegs are generally on their guard for a lot of reasons. That’s just one of ‘em. The conflict between our tribes keeps most outsiders away from the island, too, but that’s not to say it’s foolproof.”

“That’s the rumor I always heard, too,” Ideo breathed. “That catchers avoid Kenzan Island because of our reputation as a warlike tribe, but any Longarm who goes off on their own risks getting kidnapped.”

His Longleg comrade huffed wryly under his breath. “We’re a long damn way from Sabaody, though, so of course we would never have thought that it was still something to worry about way out here.” He rolled partway onto his shoulder and let his head loll so he could look up at the ceiling, which seemed so far away from their prone positions. “Well, too late for worrying now. We need to do something before they make good on their threats.”

Ideo wormed a little closer and lowered his voice to a secretive whisper. “We’re not done yet. All we have to do is get the jump on the guy with the keys and we’re good.”

“That big fellow, right?” Bluegilly perked up considerably at the change in topic, though he shot a glance quickly to make sure that their guard wasn’t paying attention. “He acted like their leader, he’s got to have them.”

“We might not get a chance until they come to move us,” Ideo pointed out. “All it takes is one idiot leaving an opening and we can fight back. We’re both more than our arms and our legs, we can get the drop on them.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” Bluegilly said, a note of determination coloring his whisper. “Okay, then. We sit tight, play nice, until they leave us our chance. Who knows how soon they’ll come to take us out of here.”

The captain nodded. “Guess there’s nothing for it, then, but to wait for that chance. It’s not like we’ve got anything else to do.”

Bluegilly nodded and then rolled back mostly onto his stomach in order to free his bound hands and rest as comfortably as he could. His eyes found his partner’s and lightened briefly at the mere sight of them, sending a trusting expression flitting across his face that made Ideo blush in spite of himself. He in turn quieted and shifted around some more, still trying to find a position that didn’t hurt and failing utterly. In the end he used his loose arm to push himself back up into something resembling a sitting position, and then looked out through the bars in order to keep a watch on the doors. The windowless prison made it impossible to know what time it was and how long they would have to sit tight, but so long as both stayed still and rested up, he was sure they would have their chance.

Eventually, the far door creaked open and a whole pack of the thugs returned, shepherded by their tall leader. Some of them had been part of the fight but some hadn’t, they could be told apart by the bandages on their faces and peeping from their shirts. All of them were heavily armed, now, and trooped up to the cell to make a real show of force. The leader moved through them in order to unlock the cell, though he hesitated a moment in order to give his men orders. “Four of you for each of them. Don’t bother with the shackles, just drag them out if they won’t walk. Let’s go.” He stepped aside, swinging the door open as he did, and the foremost eight men moved in as ordered. Four surrounded the Longleg, muttering to each other about the best way to haul him up, while the rest stood over the Longarm, gauging his position before one bent to take him by the arm and pull.

Ideo had been waiting for this moment. He feigned disinterest in moving until the moment the thug touched his arm, and then he jerked to life, punching downward with both arms in order to free his left from his sleeve and extend his long arms fully. He swiftly looped his arms under his feet in order to bring his hands to the front of his body and then swung both fists together into the face of the startled thug leaning over him. The man went flying back into one of his comrades, and in the moment he had clear Ideo shifted onto his knees and braced his bound hands to use as a double-fisted battering ram against anyone who would come at him next. At the same moment, Bluegilly rolled as flat on his back as he could and whipped his chained legs around in a mighty sweep to take out two more of the thugs, strained but not stopped by his circumstances. The gang fell back for a moment, clustering in the entryway, and then their boss barked out orders. “Pin them down! They’re still shackled, they won’t be able to do much!”

The tensed stances of the two pirates stood in defiance of his suggestion. Bluegilly pressed his hands and forearms against the floor in order to be able to whirl his legs in any direction, and Ideo had far more function now that his arms were in front of him. He couldn’t stand, so he fought from his knees, jamming his lower elbows into anyone and anything that got too close before following it up with his fists, bowling them over much the same as he had back in that empty street when he had full use of all his limbs. Bluegilly spun like a breakdancer balanced on his arms, flinging his assailants into the walls and iron bars and then reversing to kick straight out and catch one in the gut with both feet. He couldn’t bend his legs as much as he would for his usual Jiaokungdo moves, but he had just enough give in the chains to still be able to land heavy kicks with both feet at once, and the snap of bones breaking under his assault only lent him a necessary fervor. Ideo roared like a tiger as he slammed his arms into the thugs left and right, bashing them clear of him with no strategy other than to keep hitting until they were all down. In order to free themselves they would have to find the one with the keys, but he was certain _that_ would be the tall man who stayed well out of the prison cell and simply ordered his men in to subdue the prisoners. The only way to force him into a vulnerable position would be to take out all of his underlings. Yet, as easy it was to punch and kick them and leave them writhing on the floor, groaning in pain, still more piled in behind them, more and more with seemingly no end. At last the sheer numbers got the better of them, and the petty thugs swarmed on them, sacrificing themselves in order to grab a hold of their thrashing limbs and anchor them down. Ideo strained against their hold and gnashed his teeth at them, and then the very man he wanted was suddenly upon him with no way for him to gain a grip on him. The leader crashed into him, one knee in his gut, and thrust out both hands to pin Ideo to the wall. One landed on his forehead and knocked him back, the other gripped the metal collar around his neck and pressed it into his throat, fully trapping him between the wall and his chains. Even as Ideo heaved for breath against the pressure on his throat, the gang leader shoved his face in close. “Stop struggling,” he snarled, “or I’ll activate this collar and let you blow your own head off!”

Ideo still struggled to get even one segment of one arm free in order to shovel this guy off of him, but the hand on the collar moved toward the hasp and then they all heard the one sound a slave most dreaded: the ticking of the timer on the collar. Some of the thugs trying to weigh him down balked and scattered, but Ideo had the good sense to go completely still. He did not beg, but the way he stared wide-eyed into the leering face of the gang leader suggested that he understood his plight completely. A few seconds ticked painfully by, and then the man moved to press against the mechanism that would end the timer and leave the collar un-exploded. The silence fell over them like a sigh of relief. The leader still threw his full weight against the collar, pressing down on Ideo’s throat until he gasped desperately for air. “That’s right,” he hissed into his captive’s face. “All I have to do is hit the trigger and you’re dead, Longarm. You really want that? Maybe you want me to activate your friend’s collar and let him die in front of you?”

Ideo still bared his teeth, but he had no breath left to sass back. He did not justify the slave trader’s warning with a response, though his arms went slack and he dropped down to a seat on the floor against the wall. Not to be outdone, the man punched him in the face hard enough to bloody his lip before finally getting to his feet. “They won’t fight any longer, if they know what’s good for them. C’mon, time’s wasting. Let’s get them loaded and get moving.”

Bluegilly had also ceased struggling the instant he heard that ominous ticking, and laid helpless as a throng of gang members surrounded him and picked him bodily up to haul him out like he was some kind of cargo crate. Another bunch heaved Ideo to his feet and then dragged him, since he couldn’t walk while shackled, commandeering his arms and upper body and not caring at all that his lower half carved a swath through the dust on the floor as they manhandled him like a sack of potatoes. Thankfully it was a relatively short distance from prison to outdoors, where night had fallen and the gang hurried to get their cargo loaded by the orange glow of lamps. In the street beside the building a wagon stood waiting, two great draft horses hitched to it waiting to take it up to the city on the heights where the nobles resided and the fates of potential slaves would be decided. Before loading him onto it, the thugs wrestled Ideo all over again, trying to get his arms back behind his back where he wouldn’t be able to use them against the people he desperately wanted to punch. One silent gesture from their leader, tapping his own neck in warning, forced Ideo to hold still while they uncuffed him and then re-secured his wrists behind his back, adding a second set of shackles at the point of his lower elbows so that his arms were uncomfortably immobilized. To do so, they had to strip him entirely of his jacket, which they simply tossed into the dirt. Shortly after both of them were pitched into the holding cage with no regard for how they landed, another prisoner was led out and loaded as well. He was walking freely, though he had his arms shackled in front of him and a collar around his neck as well. He sat himself timidly at the far end of the wagon’s bed and said nothing while the two pirates did their best to right themselves and regain some dignity before the wagon lurched into action and knocked them over a second time. Eventually, Bluegilly got himself into a seated position with his chain-wrapped legs stretched out diagonally across the wagon bed, and Ideo laid beside him with his head pillowed on his tattooed thigh. His long arms were bound in such a way now that he couldn’t sit up, the best he could do was kneel with his torso bent forward, so he decided to take it easy on himself and rest in a prone position. All Bluegilly could do to calm him was remain quiet and offer his leg as support. They shared a wary look but said nothing, aware that their first plan for escaping had been thoroughly thwarted and now, it was too dangerous to even discuss an alternative. The cage mounted on the wagon bed was open to the air, allowing not just the drivers but the escort of gang members walking in a group around the wagon to hear anything said.

A mile or two into the journey and the third prisoner finally cleared his throat to speak. He had kept his head down so far but there was no mistaking the surreptitious glances he kept giving the Longarm and Longleg, curious and dubious at the same time. “You fellas are in for it,” he said sadly. “I bet you’re worth a lot.”

Ideo glared at him. He looked like just a normal human, but given where they all were it was still insulting to have him treating them like they were shiny objects to be admired and not people. “Who the fuck are you?” he growled.

The man shrugged against the bars. “Does it matter? It’s not like people like you would have ever heard of me one way or another.”

“Yeah, well, you can shut your damn mouth about how much we’re worth,” Ideo seethed, flexing his hands behind his back as if wishing he could punch this idiot. “That doesn’t matter either. We’re not getting sold.”

“Are you serious?” The stranger chuckled sadly and shook his head. “Delusional, too. I’d hate to see them beat that fantasy out of your head, but from what I hear Longarms aren’t all that smart in the first place. A beating might be all you can understand.”

Ideo made to lunge up and attack him with his teeth if nothing else, but Bluegilly shifted his legs as if to hold him back. “He’s right,” the Longleg said in a low, threatening tone, “you’d better keep your mouth shut if you want to get to this city alive.”

“I don’t even care,” the man sighed. “What’s the point? We’re all going to be sold off, maybe death would be better. Though, there’s a good chance these guys will beat you for killing another slave. That’s money out of their pockets, you know.”

Bluegilly eyed him warily, uncertain as to his mental state given the way he talked. “What do you know, about where we’re going?”

“Not much,” the man said, his voice strangely devoid of grief or anger. If anything, he sounded like he had long ago come to terms with his fate and embraced it. “They already took the rest of my crew, a while ago. From what they were saying when they talked, they sold them to one of the big farms on the high plain as manual labor. I suppose that’s better than being sent to the Celestial Dragons, but they didn’t want me. I guess they didn’t think I would be strong enough. Probably not, I was just a mapmaker.”

Bluegilly stared darkly at him. “The other ship in the harbor…”

“Oh, our ship is still there?”

“It looked deserted,” Ideo grunted. “We didn’t know how long ago it had landed here.”

“Ah yes, see? It’s been at least two weeks, but I sort of lost track of the exact days.” The mapmaker’s head lolled idly back against the bars. “They caught us all within the first day and a half. Found out the captain had a bounty and apparently turned him in for it. Then little by little they sold everyone off from officers on down. I was the only one left. They kept me around to do their chores for them, even though it sounded like they weren’t supposed to actually put me to work yet. I can only assume that if they’re finally taking me along with you two, they might have a market at last. Or they’re just clearing out the prison and dumping everything off, who knows?”

Captain and vice-captain shared a wary look. While it didn’t matter what this guy’s fate might be, that was more information than they had before, enough to draw them a picture of an unpleasant situation that was growing darker by the minute. For all the chatter about their races, this pack of hunters would take anything that fell into their trap, even weak pirates with no notoriety to speak of so long as their bodies were worth selling. A ripple of worry went through Ideo again, thinking of their crew down in the harbor, but right now it appeared that they weren’t the ones in real trouble. He huffed and pushed down that concern, forcing himself to look around and gauge the situation at present. Over Bluegilly’s head he could see the sky lightening, making it possible to see more than just the faces close by. The majority of the thugs from the slave-hunting gang were walking alongside the wagon, surrounding it on all sides, though it was hard to say whether they were guarding their cargo from being stolen or watching them so they didn’t attempt another escape. This was clearly neither the time nor place to break out, though. Even if they were able to bust through the iron chains with sheer strength alone, then bend the bars of the cage around them and topple the wagon, there were still dozens of men to go through – and, there was the collars. After the incident in the prison, Ideo knew that if he so much as flexed his biceps, he’d have his head blown off without a second thought. He and Bluegilly might be worth millions, but they would be worth nothing if they got free, so killing them would be the only recourse for their captors. Sighing, he settled down and tried to get comfortable despite the rocking of the wagon as it traversed the uneven, pebble-strewn road. Seeing him quiet down fully, Bluegilly looked up and ahead of them, drawn to that coming light and what it did to the landscape all around them. They had come out of the trees and there seemed to be nothing but wide open plains on all sides. “The moon’s rising,” he murmured. “No wonder they wanted to make the journey at night. It won’t be too dark after all.”

Ideo had assumed so. That meant it was getting quite late. “You have a better view than I do,” he said quietly, making sure his voice didn’t carry. “Is there any chance?”

The third prisoner eyed them both like he couldn’t believe they were still talking like that, but he didn’t mock them this time. Bluegilly sighed through his nose, his mouth going to a tight, thin line. “Not right now,” he answered. “Sit tight. Let’s wait it out and see what morning brings.”

“Morning’s still a long way off,” Ideo warned, but accepted the assessment and closed his eyes. The constant jolting and rocking of the wagon was worse than being at sea, and moon or not, there was nothing to look at. He figured he might as well just rest, conserve his energy, and take his partner’s advice. There wasn’t anything better to do.

  


Aboard the Triple-X ship, trouble did not come to anyone’s mind until closer to sunset when the scouting party still hadn’t returned, and there had been no call. The pair who had gone over to the other pirate ship returned first, and while the news they had sounded suspicious, no one really began to worry until a certain number of hours had gone by with no contact from Ideo and the rest. The grim report was that the ship was not just empty of crew, but completely stripped to the bilge. Cargo, supplies, food, ammunition, and even cannons had been taken, and someone had even ransacked the crew’s personal items in search of trinkets and valuables. Only the sails, anchor, and flag hadn’t been touched since they helped preserve the appearance that the ship was still functional, making it the perfect bait for incoming vessels. Jeet frowned darkly at the description. “Sounds like the work of petty thieves,” he grumbled. “Tactless assholes. But that still doesn’t explain what happened to its crew. Were there any bounty posters lying around, did you see?”

One of the men shook his head. “Only one, looked like it belonged to a captain. Pinned up in the bridge.”

Jeet shifted his suspicious look to Abdullah as he joined them to hear the rest. “Bounty hunters would drag away the captain, but not bother with the rest of the crew,” he said knowingly – it was exactly what they would have done.

“Not for a hundred and twenty million,” the other crewman snickered. “For as big as that galleon is, they must have been pretty small potatoes.”

“A hundred and twenty million and he got this far in the New World?” Abdullah was torn between being impressed and dismissing the theoretical captain. “Well, anyway, good work. It means there’s nothing left for us to take either, so…” He turned to his close comrade. “It’s nearly sunset and there’s been no word. I think it’s time we put together a search.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Hey, look!” The crewman currently on watch in the crow’s nest shouted and pointed. “Somebody’s coming back!”

The others followed his indication to see two men limping their way, supporting one another. It was obvious even at a distance that neither were a Longarm or a Longleg, and as they came closer, Abdullah beckoned a couple of their guys to go and help them the rest of the way. They were in bad shape, and without the captains. When they reached the main deck and spotted the remaining two crew leaders they immediately fell to talking over one another in their haste to relay their story, but Abdullah waved them down. “One at a time – oi! Someone get some bandages and stuff, he’s been shot.”

The bandanna was doing a poor job of stemming the blood running down their crewmate’s arm. He breathed his thanks as someone sat him down and began to wrap him up, leaving it to the other to do the talking. “Is the captain here?” he wondered worriedly. “We woke up and they were gone, but I thought maybe they came back to get help…”

“No,” Abdullah replied, spirits sinking. “We hadn’t heard from any of you guys, we were just about to start looking…”

“Oh no,” the man fretted. “They’re missing? They were with us in the fight, but then we all got knocked out.”

“What fight?” Jeet pressed.

Taking a breath, the man told them the whole story of what they had seen, or rather not seen, up until the moment his friend got shot in the arm and they were ambushed by an unknown force, and how they fought their way free only to be overcome by some kind of gas. He and the injured one woke up not that long ago to find the street completely deserted, no sign of their captains and no indication that a fight had even taken place there aside from the remnants of the gas canister near them. They had looked around in the immediate area for any trace of Ideo and Bluegilly, but finding nothing, determined that their own injuries were holding them back and they needed to return to the ship for backup. His comrade slumped on the deck nodded, then. “That’s how it happened. We were gonna call, but Bluegilly had the den-den mushi. You don’t think…they’ve been caught or something?”

“I doubt they’ve gone off with the people who attacked them to have tea and talk diplomacy,” Jeet snorted. “Of course they’ve been captured. These people, bounty hunters you think?”

“Maybe,” the first man acknowledged, “but no one in our crew has a bounty yet. They fought hard, but they still looked like your average back-street thugs.”

“Right, then.” Abdullah gathered the entire crew around him. “We need to set out looking for this gang and where they’ve taken our captains. I don’t dare call the den-den mushi, it’s probably been confiscated anyway, so we gotta do this with our own average eyes and ears. No use leaving anyone to guard the ship, if they got the better of our captains then they’re gonna be strong and we’ll need every hand.” He met Jeet’s gaze and shared a nod with his partner. “We’ll split into two groups. I’ll lead one, Jeet the other. Everybody with me?”

Despite the late hour and the darkening skies, everyone gave him a shout of agreement. They needed to prepare, however, and plot out the best route for two search parties to comb the empty town as quickly and thoroughly as possible, so by the time they all set foot on the pier, armed to the teeth and carrying lanterns, darkness had fully fallen around them. The town in daylight had fooled their eyes, but now at night it was obvious something was off – there wasn’t a streetlamp lit anywhere, the houses were dark and the “taverns” closed. The darkness favored them, though, Jeet insisted. They could prowl and hunt with less worry that someone would spot them moving around, and they could likely get up close to anyone they spotted before they in turn could be seen. Both parties started at the location of the battle so that their leaders could see the little details for themselves and perhaps pick up on clues the less-experienced crewmen might have missed, and at that point Jeet suggested they shutter the lanterns and go on in the dark. His skilled eyes picked up the trail of the gang departing the location, it led straight up the main road which climbed further uphill before forking and winding off between buildings on the upper slopes of the town. He didn’t like that, and exhorted Abdullah to anticipate an ambush – anyone strong enough to take down Ideo and Bluegilly, he reasoned, would not leave the rest of the crew alone for very long. Whatever their reasons for capturing the two powerful captains, a crew safe and snug on their ship would not stay there forever, and said captains could very well have been bait to bring the others out precisely as they were. His bounty-hunting partner agreed in full, so as they split up, neither party stuck to any of the well-traveled streets, but rather prowled through yards and down alleys on a course parallel to the main road, staying about twenty meters to either side of it and doing their best to move silently. Jeet had his group in top form, they moved as swiftly as he did and didn’t make so much as a clatter, keeping their weapons secured and picking up their feet carefully so as not to even scuff a toe in the dirt. The odd lack of life in the town became even more pronounced as twilight faded from the sky and left them with only starlight by which to see anything, and though they didn’t remark on it, all of the crew saw it for themselves: the buildings this far up from the harbor were nothing but façades, structures with fading paint and dusty windows but nothing inside them. There were no civilians living quiet lives here, these weren’t even homes which civilians would occupy. It might have been, once, but anything useful or homey had long been stripped from these buildings much like the pirate ship down below, leaving them as nothing more than props to help maintain the illusion of a populous and endearing harbor town to lure in ships. Even without lamplight or moonlight to see by, they could tell that all of these houses were abandoned, only the barest work done to the outsides to keep the veneer of civilization in place. It was bizarre that anyone should to go such lengths just to bait pirate ships to come in where bounty hunters could pick at them, but that was clearly the case here, or so Jeet thought as he realized they, like the other ship before them, had fallen for it and now they had to deal with the fallout by trying to recover their missing captains. He had a good read on the layout of the town, now, and dragged his party through another overgrown yard, through a fence, into a narrow lane before halting. The men with him weren’t entirely sure what his hand signals meant, so he pulled them in close in order to whisper. “We need to cut back toward the road to pick up their trail. Keep your eyes open for lookouts.”

They all nodded and fell into a single-file line behind him, leaving gaps between each of them and looking around with extra-special care now. Their eyes had all adjusted to the darkness, so by now they could pick out some details against the darkened landscape, particularly any sense of movement like a tree branch swaying in the wind. Then, Jeet spotted exactly what he was looking for at the same moment as the guy behind him grabbed his sleeve to halt him and pointed over his shoulder. Ahead at the end of the alley, standing out as a silhouette against the grayness of the street beyond, a man impatiently shifted his weight from one foot to the other. They waited a few moments to verify that he was busy looking down the road for any sign of something coming up toward him, and wouldn’t turn around to see them lined up in the shadows of a house two doors down. It was exactly what they needed just then, though they couldn’t attack him en masse. Jeet undertook the stealth work himself, slinking up behind the stranger with barely a whisper of a saber being drawn and catching him with an arm around his neck to stifle any outcry. He dragged the man backwards with him to where the others waited and then threw him across to let his crewmates manhandle him. They had him subdued with hands over his mouth to keep him from shouting, until Jeet could threaten him with his blade. “Sound the alarm and I slit your throat,” he muttered. “Now. Where are you keeping the two men you kidnapped?”

He let the man sweat a bit in his mates’ grasp and then nodded for one to peel his hand away. For a moment it looked like their captive would talk, but then he filled his lungs in preface to screaming an alarm. Jeet never let him get a sound out. It was messy, and the others stared in horror as the thug sputtered and expired right there at their feet, but Jeet had work to do and it wouldn’t be held up by delicate sensitivities. He went back to where the sentry had been standing lookout and peeped out to see how much of the road lay in view. Had they come straight up it following the track, lanterns ablaze, they’d have been ambushed for sure. Yet, it didn’t sound like there were tons of people laying in wait for a signal, so it was entirely possible they only had a few sentries out. Coming back to the others, Jeet led them between the houses and up through another alley until they came out at the very top of the slope where the town seemed to abruptly end on this side of the curving road. Off to their left it ran away into the night, through a cutting between high rocky walls, while immediately before them the way was blocked by the rocks and a tree-topped overhang. Yet, not far to their right lay the first sign of real life in the town besides the hapless lookout – it wasn’t so much the building half-hidden behind a stand of trees as it was the lamps lit outside it, the bright golden glow shifting and shuddering as the night wind tossed the branches idly about. The pirates stood gazing down the tiers of rooftops dropping away below them, not even realizing how high up they had climbed until they could see the black sheet of the sea way down at the bottom of the hill. The waning moon was just starting to rise, the sky over their shoulders lightening just enough to pick out details both near and far. Jeet took them aside again, certain that there was no one else within earshot but being cautious anyway. “What do you say we flush out that guy’s pals like birds out of a tree? The lantern, it’s still lit, right?”

The man carrying the lantern raised it. “Yeah, it’s just shuttered. Why?”

“One of you get me some dry branches,” the bounty hunter directed, pointing at the scrub poking out from the rocks along the opposite shoulder of the road. “Wish I had a bottle or two but this’ll do. Look – there’s a land breeze tonight. It’ll be perfect.”

Now that night had fully fallen, the usual daytime sea breeze off the water had shifted direction and was now flowing the opposite way, down from the higher parts of the land out toward the water. Once enough dry kindling had been collected, Jeet had them build a quick flashpoint on the back porch of one of the abandoned houses and then dumped some of the lamp oil on it, trailing some along the dry planking of the porch itself. All the buildings were wooden, poorly-kept with flammable paint on the exteriors, and dry as a bone; shouldered up next to each other as they were, a fire would leap quickly from one to the next, fanned by the land breeze so that it would sweep downhill so fast that anyone in the way would have to just run for it. One of the others lit a cigarette off the lamp wick, waited until the rest retreated to a safe distance, and then flicked it into the oil-soaked kindling. It took a few minutes, but then things blew up exactly as Jeet predicted, and he stood rubbing his hands with evil glee as the little fire became a raging inferno. He had no problem with destroying this empty, fake town in such a way, and was sure that as soon as Abdullah noticed the flames, he’d pull his own search party out of the way and meet back up with them. He and his group were still resting up waiting for their chance when the doors of the building just down the road from them flew open and people came running out, gawking and gaping at the inferno jumping from house to house and rushing down through the town. A few of them tried to beat out the flames in the dry grass nearest the intersection where they stood but others pulled them back, yelling that it was useless before crying out in dismay that they had no way to stop any of this. The ambush Jeet had anticipated came running back up the road toward them, likewise clamoring about not knowing where this came from, but before they got too far there was a ring of metal on metal and someone was attacking them from behind. That was Jeet’s signal; he rousted his men and raced to join the melee, falling upon the group of about twenty from one side as Abdullah came in from the other side. The thugs were so disoriented by the fire and the sudden appearance of armed men that they couldn’t get themselves together in time, and most went down in the first wave of surprise. Two or three broke and raced back along the road in the opposite direction, close by where Abdullah’s group had sprang from, but most stopped and fought as best they could. The Ideo Pirates had the upper hand from the moment they struck, though they had to work hard for it and came out of it a bit scratched up and bruised while every last gang member lay incapacitated or dead. Jeet grabbed one who was still semi-conscious and dragged him up with saber to his throat. “Where are they?” he snarled, eyes bulging and teeth bared in a vision of the devil himself.

The man tried to gesture up the road, and Abdullah followed to see that it was the direction in which the stragglers had run. “This way,” he called to everyone, doing a quick head-count as they ran past him to make sure everyone was there and then falling in with Jeet. “Fire attack, huh? I knew that was your work.”

The other bounty hunter cackled. “Am I that obvious? It was too easy – these buildings are all empty and dried up and there’s a land breeze. How could I have passed up the chance?”

“It’s a work of art, really,” Abdullah laughed, glancing over his shoulder at the conflagration continuing to roar downhill. “Just hope it stops before it reaches the sea.”

“I thought about that,” Jeet assured. “There’s a wide gap between the buildings and the pier, and most of the streets there are stone. It’ll burn itself out before it gets to the ship.”

“Boy, you thought of everything.” His partner gave him a wry grin and then faced forward as they came around another bend and found the stone prison building ablaze with light. The few thugs who had escaped ran here to get reinforcements, but there weren’t many left, as most of those left behind in the town had been resting in their house back at the intersection. As they ran headfirst into another fight, something on the ground caught Jeet’s eye and he slowed to check it out. It looked like just a pile of cloth, but as he reached down and picked it up, he saw their jolly roger on the back and realized what it was. Stashing it under his caftan, he caught up to the others as they were mowing down the last gang members left on guard and storming the prison to find who might be inside. The cells were empty, however, there was no sign of their missing captains anywhere. Incensed, Abdullah gave the order to beat the shit out of anyone still capable of standing and holding a weapon, until there was no one left to oppose them. The three or four still conscious were dragged into the main room of the prison and lined up before the two bounty hunters, who studied them carefully as if to decide which one would crack under pressure first. Abdullah speared one trident down between the knees of one still sporting bandages from the earlier fight, making him whimper in terror. “I like this one,” he grunted. “Torture him for the information, Jeet.”

“With pleasure,” his partner squealed, running his tongue along the flat of one saber. “I feel like starting with the fingernails. Every minute you don’t tell us what we wanna know, I pull out another one. Then, the toenails. Then the ears. Then.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “The balls.”

The man looked positively sick, but before he could even open his mouth the one beside him leaned forward. “You’re looking for the Longleg and Longarm, right?” he cried. “They’re not here!”

The two bounty hunters looked at each other, impressed that it only took a few gory threats to get them to spill. “But I wanted to torture ‘em,” Jeet complained.

“Maybe later,” Abdullah conceded. “If what they say isn’t good enough.” He stared down both of their targets over his glasses. “So? If they’re not here then where are they?”

“You just missed them,” the threatened man said shakily, apparently concerned that they might still go for his balls. “The boss took ‘em. To Altamarin. You’re too late.”

It wasn’t enough, yet, so Jeet grabbed him by the front of the shirt, put his saber up alongside the man’s cheek, and threatened him until he practically cried and babbled out everything – a wagon, bound for another city across the island, departed a couple of hours ago with the two captives loaded and all they had to do was follow the road _that way_. Abdullah was highly displeased that their careful search through the town avoiding this rearguard had cost them precious time, but none of the thugs were dumb enough to challenge them and declare that they’d never be able to catch up. Leaving the tormented man blubbering on the floor behind him, Jeet drew his crewmates aside and pulled out the thing he had found in the dirt on the road outside. “It’s Ideo’s,” he murmured, “you can tell from the shoulders.”

Abdullah looked at it, glad to see that there were no holes and no bloodstains, and then folded it reverently. “Someone wanna hang onto this for him? Thanks. So.” He sent a stern look around the circle of crewmates looking eagerly to him to take the lead. “Slavers have our captain and vice-captain. Are we gonna just stand around here and cry about it?”

“No way!” more than one said eagerly. “We gotta go after them!” another pleaded.

“Good. That’s what I like to hear.” Abdullah flashed them a quick grin of reassurance. “We’re Ideo’s crew and he’s our captain. We’re all in this together. They need our help right now, we’re the only ones who can save them. I don’t know if we can catch up to a wagon on foot, but we’re gonna do our damnedest to try. It’s gonna be rough, who knows what’s up there in this Altamarin place waiting for us.”

“Then we’d better not stand around with our thumbs up our asses,” one crewman said boldly. “Time’s a-wasting.”

“There’s not even time to go back to the ship and pack up supplies or anything,” another noted. “We’ll have to make do with what we’ve got on us.”

“All we need is our weapons anyway,” yet another bragged. “Right?”

“Can’t guarantee that,” Abdullah said darkly. “But Jeet and I have made a living out of being resourceful. If you let us do the thinking, we’ll get you there. After that, well, we’ll play it by ear.”

“Good thing I had a big dinner,” another crewmate quipped.

They paused only long enough to tie up their victims and then loot the prison of anything useful, finding Bluegilly’s den-den mushi among other things in the back room. They could do nothing about the fire or anything else they were leaving behind in this town, and had to hope that Jeet had planned it right and the fire ravaging the town wouldn’t make it to their ship. They were on the road less than ten minutes after making the unanimous decision to set out after their captains, having no idea how far away this city was, how far behind they were from their target, and just how long into the night they would have to hike to have any chance at rescuing the pair. All they could do was get started and see what happened. The moon stood much higher now, almost straight ahead of them, leading the way. At the same time, Ideo and Bluegilly endured an unpleasant, rattling journey across the high plateau toward an uncertain destiny, dozing a little but otherwise sullenly watching the gloomy, half-lit landscape pass by around them. They had no idea that their rescue was already in progress, all they could do was endure and see what the morning would reveal.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Note: some brief and vague mentions of suicide in this part.

The great stone walls of a fortified city stretched to the left and right, towering over the flat plain and blocking any further progress forward. Given how featureless the landscape was on all sides, they had been able to see it coming for many long kilometers, hours and hours of plodding travel only made it grow larger by increments as the day wore on. The hunters and their prey had paused in the wee hours of the night for a short rest, so everyone important could get some sleep, but they started out again at dawn and kept going, following the lone road as it climbed from the relative lowlands of the southwestern harbor up to a high, lonely steppe. Daylight made it easier to see the scattering of distant buildings marking where farms lay, but other than that they saw nothing – no fellow travelers, no intersecting roads, no trees, nothing, not until they came so close to the walled city that it became clear it was the gang’s destination. It still took forever to actually close in on the city, during which the sun began to sink to the west. Battered, uncomfortable, and hungry, Ideo and Bluegilly silently endured, refusing to engage the other captive in conversation, ignoring the jibes from the gang members around them, and only once in a while whispering an observation or question to one another. Once they came under the oppressive presence of the walls, Ideo managed to sit up enough to watch what was going on around them, finding more smaller roads trailing in toward the one they had been on for a night and a day. After so much nothing, finally something was happening and he wanted to see it for himself. Bluegilly twisted enough to look up at the height of the walls, and then noticed something off to the side. Another heavily-laden wagon was coming up one of those cross-roads, but there weren’t horses pulling it. Six men were chained to it and each other, with the farmer driving it whipping them as if they were oxen. None of them wore collars, but from the heavy chains it was clear they were slaves of a kind, heads down and backs bent as they strained to haul the wagonload of grain toward the city. It struck Bluegilly like a punch; he had never seen it in action before, and these were just plain men, people of no consequence and no race, enslaved and forced to do the work of beasts of burden all because the man riding behind them could afford it. Where did they come from? What put them in this situation? Why did they not try to escape? He stared, blue eyes wide, and could not fathom how anyone could be so broken as to submit to this torment. It shocked him to the core, he had to look away and sit back with his back against the bars of the cage. Ideo noticed the direction of his gaze and what he’d seen, and only shook his head grimly.

A short queue had formed at the massive gate marking the end of the road and the beginning of civilization, other travelers from just outside the city waiting for their chance to get in. The gang leader riding with the wagon driver instructed him to fall in with the line and let him handle it when they got there. His underlings loitered around them, leaning on the wagon or hanging about in knots, weapons resting on their shoulders and lazy grins punctuating their bragging talk of what they were going to do once inside. Ideo caught the name he’d heard them mention in the prison: Altamarin. That was where they were. It meant nothing, but at least they could confirm the name of the place of torment. Given the size of the wall, the city behind it had to be huge. In due order it was their turn, and the guards thronged at the gate came up to check them, inquiring after their names and business. The leader leaned down to show one a badge. “Scarlucci Imports acquisition team,” he said simply.

One guard actually inspected his proof, but the others stood down their alertness and gathered around the wagon. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen you guys in person,” one noted. “What’ve you got this time, anything good?”

“Check it out,” the leader said smugly, thumbing over his shoulder while he pocketed the badge.

The city guards wore snug leather helms and shoulder pauldrons over crisp uniform jackets, looking like a mashup of civilian police and army personnel. They loomed in close to peer at the cargo inside the cage and then erupted in a chorus of interested cries. “Whew, never seen that before!” one crowed. “Get a load of this, guys – a Longleg and a Longarm!”

“No wonder you’re escorting this load in person,” another said, impressed. “Nice!”

Yet another simply stared. “Look at that, they really do exist. I thought it was just a fairy tale.”

“How much are you gonna sell them for?”

“That’s up to Mr. Scarlucci,” the gang leader said boldly, shrugging. “C’mon, you know I’m just here to catch them and get paid. I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he added to one of the guards reaching to poke at the captives. “They’re savages.”

Both pirates glared, first at him and then at the guards, but made no sudden moves. Listening to them talk like this only raised their ire even further, but addressing their displeasure would get them nowhere. The guards collectively laughed and waved the wagon in, counting the underlings to make sure exactly the number claimed by their boss passed through the gate and not a single man more. The road ran through a tunnel beneath the wall, indicating how thick and strong the city’s fortifications really were, and emerged into the light again to reveal the full scope of what really lay hidden on this island. Altamarin was even larger than they expected, the buildings thick and close together much like in the harbor town, obscuring long views and even making it hard to gauge the actual perimeter of the walls. They vanished behind tall buildings on either side of the road, which continued on into the city as its main thoroughfare. It was clearly an old and well-established city, though few of the buildings looked run-down. In fact, most had a high-class air to them, the architecture from a much earlier time but the walls freshly painted, the rooftops in good repair, and nothing out of place, not even a slightly-bent iron railing on a single balcony. It seemed nice and all, but knowing who had captured them and brought them there made both pirates wonder just what kind of ugliness was really hiding underneath the whitewash and tile. The wagon driver turned down another street and made his way through various neighborhoods, passing by shops and restaurants and heading toward residential areas, and at that point several of the gang members leaped up to cling to the bars and ride on the edges of the wagon, effectively blocking those inside from view. Their cargo was a secret, after all, though now and then Ideo glimpsed snatches of the view between the gangsters’ legs and could see the cityscape change subtly around them. Here the houses weren’t so close together, but each one was larger and surrounded by fenced-in yards, hedges and even walls, clearly estates and mansions with those fences and walls serving as the only border between plots. The guard around the wagon closed in even more tightly, and the captives could guess why when they caught sight of a well-dressed couple standing aside on the edge of the road, gaping at the whole entourage. A caged wagon was a spectacle no one could simply ignore, but thanks to the security around it no one really saw what might be inside. It turned into the gated entrance to one of the mansions and at last, once away from prying eyes, the thugs hopped down and scrambled to unload their prisoners. The third man, they were told to simply lead away into the house, presumably to become the homeowner’s own slave, but the two pirates were dragged yet again somewhere that they didn’t want to be. Up the front walk, through the main doors, and into the foyer, which lay in a dim half-light as no lamps were lit yet despite the lateness of the day. There, the thugs simply dumped their charges onto the floor, not even bothering to right them before going out to finally have a few minutes to themselves to have a smoke or a stretch or just lounge around the yard.

No sooner had they hit the floor and the pair of captains heard the gruff tones of the gang leader speaking eagerly to someone, growing louder as they approached the open archway ahead of them. “I think you’ll really like what we’ve brought in for you this time. I was sure you would want to inspect the merchandise for yourself, which is why we didn’t immediately contract to have them sent to the auctions…”

He came into the room in the company of another man, much more well-dressed and softer around the middle, and as his eyes alit on the two prone figures in chains, his face lit up and he gasped with the kind of delight often reserved for small children being given a birthday present or pirates beholding a chest of gold. “Ohhh! Do my eyes deceive me?” he squealed in an unctuous lilt. “A Longleg… _and_ a Longarm? One by himself would have been a treasure but you got both kinds! How did you ever manage to collect one of each?”

The gang leader laughed boldly. “They walked right into our trap. Took us a bit of effort to bring ‘em down, they’re both pretty tough. We didn’t even know that one was a Longarm until they were out cold, and that’s when we realized what we’d caught.” He sneered down at them as they glared up at him. “They’re part of some rookie pirate crew, it sounds like. We didn’t stick around to wait for the others to try to rescue them, so I admit that this is all we’ve scored for this hunt, sir. Granted, if you _want_ another bunch of plain-ass sailors we can go back and round up what’s left, but these two alone are worth a thousand times that of a normal human.”

The nobleman waved a hand idly in the air. “I don’t need such merchandise right now, I wouldn’t be able to unload it. I had enough trouble selling off the last batch. But this…” He advanced on his prisoners with arms outspread in joy. “This! You’ve brought me a prize beyond my wildest dreams! Most excellent, my friend. You and your men will be well compensated for this – provided, of course, that they sell for the highest price.”

Ideo glared up at the man, loathing him on sight for what he was and what he represented. It was easy to hate him, pudgy around the middle from indulging too much luxury and too little strenuous work, pale from never daring to toil under the bright sun, with a simpering face and weak jaw accentuating his flaws. Ideo had not personally met any actual world nobles before, though there was always talk in the tournaments that on some islands, they made up generous portions of the audience as well as the betting pools. Crouched on his knees with his arms doubly-bound behind him, he could see nothing of virtue or value in this professional slave trader. “You’re the one, then,” he growled under his breath, making the man’s delighted expression fade as he noticed a slave addressing him. “The real boss, the ringleader. They work for you.” His shoulders strained, his muscles trembling as he pushed against his bonds as if he could snap them with mere muscle bulk. “I’m gonna enjoy punching the shit out of you as soon as my hands are free.”

The gang leader took two swift steps and swung the butt of his rifle up to crack into Ideo’s jaw, knocking him off his knees. “Slaves keep their mouths shut,” he snarled at them, and then turned to bow to the nobleman. “I’m sorry for damaging the merchandise, sir, but these two are both going to be trouble. They’re mouthy and insolent, on top of being strong.”

The noble raised his hand. “Understandable. Regrettable all the same, for now you’ll need to clean him up before I put him on the market, but I would rather a few scuff marks than allow a slave to talk back to me like that.” He stepped over and placed a foot squarely on the collar around Ideo’s neck, a gesture demanding that he not even try to get up. “Hmm, yes, they do look terribly strong, as you say. That’s good – the Celestial Dragons pay extra-well for stronger slaves, since they have a tendency to break their toys. The stronger the better. This one in particular, such upper-body strength…”

“One of my men says he’s a champion boxer,” the gang leader explained. “Apparently famous, but disappeared a couple of months ago.”

“Is he?” The nobleman shot him a keen look. “Investigate that fully. If it’s true, it will make him even more marketable. The Longleg here looks no less strong…” He stepped back and then over to Bluegilly, nudging him with a toe to get a better look at his physique. “I’ve never seen one with such developed musculature. They’ll fetch high prices without a doubt. As novel as they are, I can’t possibly keep such high-end merchandise here. They _must_ go to auction for the Celestial Dragons. They’ll be worth millions!”

Bluegilly glared up from under the shaggy fringe of his hair over his eyes, hissing, “Bastards…” under his breath.

“First, though…” The noble ignored him and turned away, stepping far enough past his lieutenant to put a safe distance between him and potentially dangerous subjects willing to revolt. “…it may be worth it to keep them in the shop for a little while. It will take time to outfit the ship for a journey westward, so in the meantime, I can put them on display for my customers. Most people in the city have never seen a Longarm or a Longleg, they would gladly pay for the chance to view such strange creatures just once in their lifetimes.”

“Ah, brilliant idea, sir,” the gang head encouraged, standing guard over Ideo lest he start up in rage again. “Then, it’s a good thing I brought them for inspection.”

“Oh, indeed,” the noble enthused, taking a small book out of his coat pocket and rifling through it. “You must be commended for that forethought, Cayse. Had you sent them ahead I still would have been quite pleased once the money came back from auction, but I would have forever rued missing out on an even bigger opportunity. We have a few more logistics to discuss, so have your men take them out to be washed and tended so they aren’t a disgusting mess while on display. We can’t have them bedraggled and bloody when the VIP clients come to view them.”

Cayse nodded and turned to one of his underlings waiting at the door, waving him off to collect a few more of his buddies and obey the order while he followed along on the nobleman’s heels. “They’ll be in top shape for your purposes, sir.”

Ideo and Bluegilly would not be privy to overhearing any more of their plans for them, they were picked up and hauled out on the spot, back through the grand foyer and then around the side of the manor house to the back. There, “washed” meant being leaned up against a wall while the gang tossed buckets of water at them, over and over until there was no more dirt or blood visible on their skin and clothing. It was not actually the most effective method, but the slave hunters didn’t care, they were simply doing as they were told and enjoying the cruelty of it. Once satisfied that they had done enough, one of them called over a woman lurking in the back doorway of the servants’ quarters and ordered her to finish the job, dry them off so they didn’t get dirty again and tend their minor injuries as required by the boss. After dragging their prisoners inside and loosening Bluegilly’s chains enough to let him sit or kneel, the men disappeared fully, leaving the woman alone with the two of them – though, presumably, a guard was stationed outside the room. The two pirates noticed almost immediately why: she also bore a collar, though she had the complete freedom of movement they lacked. She knelt first before Ideo, looking for whatever injury had brought about the blood on his chin, but scarcely had she reached to touch his jaw and he jerked his head away. “I’m fine,” he growled. “Just a cut lip, nothing more.”

The woman drew back and then stiffly reached for a towel, patting him dry and looking for even the slightest scuff mark on his chest and back. “I must do this,” she quietly insisted. “If there is even a single scrape or a bruise anywhere on his precious merchandise, Mr. Scarlucci will have a fit.”

“Fuck him,” Bluegilly snarled through clenched teeth as he propped himself up as best he could. “Unless you mean he’ll take it out on you, in which case…” He trailed off and stared hard at Ideo, who seemed to feel his eyes and looked his way, nodding in agreement and going still to allow her to touch him. “Who is he, anyway? What’s his deal?”

“You don’t know where you are?” The woman shot the Longleg a wary look, barely lifting her eyes to do so. “Altamarin is a sanctuary city of the World Government. Mr. Scarlucci is just one of many nobles who’ve been settled here to protect them from the ravages of the pirate emperors.”

“World nobles?” Ideo’s eyes darkened with anger. “No wonder they’ve got slaves.”

“There’s no use in resisting it,” the woman said with the sort of tone that suggested they were kind of dumb for even thinking of rebellion. “World nobles are protected, and their rights are upheld by the Marines. Whatever you were before they caught you, it doesn’t matter. That’s all over. You’re slaves now.”

“Like hell,” Ideo growled under his breath, fixing her with his determined gaze. “Nobody’s bought us yet. If you think I’m just gonna roll over and let this happen, you’re an idiot.”

“Ideo,” Bluegilly warned softly. He didn’t want his comrade to take out his anger on the woman, slave or not. Besides, she was currently their best source of information, and he wanted to know as much as he could in order to plan any sort of escape. “How is there a sanctuary city this far out in the New World? There’s emperors all around, they must be under constant threat.”

The woman idly lifted her gaze toward him. “The city has been here longer than there have been pirate emperors,” she said plainly. “They have all the protection they could need. I don’t remember ever hearing that any of those pirates have ever tried to take over this island.”

“How convenient,” Ideo grumbled. “A slave-hunting gang headquartered on an island under protection so that none of the emperors can get at them. That explains a lot.”

“Like how word hasn’t gotten around the seas to warn people away,” Bluegilly picked up for him. “What a bunch of bullshit.”

“That’s the world government for you,” Ideo said with a harsh bark of a laugh that startled the woman. She moved from him to his partner at that very moment. “A gang like this capturing pirates to sell as slaves just works in their favor, keeps the Marines from having to do it themselves.”

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s just pirates they take,” Bluegilly said darkly, looking down at the woman as she dabbed a soft cloth to the scratches on his leg near his tattoo. It was hard to tell how old she was, with her expression so blank and her hair tied back in a bun. “How long have you been his property?”

The woman barely glanced at him, though there was no fear or concern in her demeanor, only resignation. “It doesn’t matter. I simply am.”

“You in charge of the other slaves, or just the housekeeper?”

She shook her head, and then after a moment murmured, “I take care of Mr. Scarlucci and his house.”

“Bet he could have done with a regular servant,” the Longleg sniffed angrily. “But that would mean paying them.”

“Leave it, Bluegilly,” Ideo grunted as he sat in his bent-over position in soaking-wet pants, looking around the room instead of at the slave woman. “It doesn’t matter. The important thing is, we need to look for a way out of this.”

“You don’t understand,” the woman said tiredly before his crewmate could respond. “There is no way out. No one will save you. You should just accept it, then they won’t beat you or make things worse for you.”

The two pirates gave each other a wary look. Neither could accept such a fate, no matter whether she spoke the truth or was simply so broken that she believed it wholly. Her blank face and tensionless posture told them nothing. “No one, huh?” Ideo challenged. “Maybe not the Marines, but I’ve never relied on them anyway.”

“No one,” she repeated flatly. “Nobody helps slaves.”

“That’s a lie,” Bluegilly said, but softly, as if he were thinking of someone else far away from their current position. The woman gave him a morbidly curious look, but did not ask him to elaborate. She said nothing more to them as she finished up and then abruptly left them sprawled there on the floor, alone. It was possible this was their chance, but then the thugs who had been standing guard outside the door came in to inspect them and pronounce them suitable for Scarlucci’s purposes. Apparently, even being alone in a room didn’t mean they were left unguarded.

Away from the prying ears of prisoners and underlings alike, Scarlucci invited his top lieutenant into a parlor office, gesturing to a chair for him while he went around the large desk to lay out his little book and make some notations in it. “There still remains this problem of their attitudes. You know I don’t like merchandise that won’t sit down and shut up.”

“Yes, sir,” Cayse said contritely as he took the offered seat. “They are freshly caught, they haven’t had their spirits broken yet.”

“Hm.” The nobleman tapped a finger thoughtfully against his thin goatee, well oiled to make it look fuller and more elegant than it was. “They were on a pirate ship when you caught them, yes? Many pirates are broken by the mere act of being enslaved. Once locked in a collar, they realize their grand dreams of the sea are permanently over and there is no hope of ever returning to it. That despair is enough to turn them docile.”

“Not these two,” the gang leader grumbled. “Even under the threat of the exploding collar, they refuse to give up their fighting spirit – they obey orders, but they do not _submit_.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Scarlucci said plainly. “They aren’t weakened by their chains?”

“They don’t appear to have Devil Fruit abilities, so the seastone won’t have any effect on them. They can’t break it, but it has no more effect on them than regular iron cuffs.”

“But if they keep fighting against it, they’ll damage themselves – and then we can kiss those millions goodbye. No Celestial Dragon will want a slave whose bones are already broken.”

“It’s the Longarm,” Cayse said angrily. “He’s as wild and dangerous as they say. It’s in his eyes, you can tell just looking at him that he’s still got the will to fight back until he dies. The Longleg, I can’t get a good read on him but he follows right along with the other one like they’re two of a kind. He’s less savage, though. The Longarm will look anyone straight in the eye and dare them to do their worst, even with that damn collar around his neck. It’s like he wants us to blow him up.”

The nobleman leveled a cool stare on him, communicating with just that look that no slaves worth millions would be blown up no matter how defiant they were. “Then,” he said heavily, “if these two won’t succumb so easily, we will have to be more forceful in breaking them. They can’t show up at the auction house still willing to fight and die. Time will help – the sea journey will take a couple of weeks, so it doesn’t have to be done overnight.”

Cayse’s lips twisted in disgust, as if he wished it would take just one night. “Since they’re obviously fighters,” he pointed out, “beatings won’t do a thing to change their attitude. They probably suffer worse on a daily basis as pirates and shrug it off, so no amount of my guys hitting them will make a difference. It’ll only damage the merchandise.”

Scarlucci pointed straight at him. “Don’t forget that, with these two. What makes them worth so much more than just any Longarm and Longleg kidnapped off their islands is their strength. No beatings where it would leave visible marks, and no starving them. I don’t want to lose all that profitable muscle mass.”

“There are other ways to deprive them besides starving them,” the thug reasoned. “Sleep and comfort, to start.”

“Of course,” his boss nodded. “But if the Longarm is as proud as you say he is, then humiliation will be the most effective. In time they’ll come to know true despair, but hammer it into them now that their days of playing pirate are over, and the rest of their lives will be spent as the Celestial Dragons see fit.” He tapped his finger against his desktop. “All the more reason to put them on display until we can get the ship ready. It will profit me, and it will go toward breaking them down so they won’t be interested in fighting.”

“That makes complete sense to me,” Cayse sycophantically agreed. “Until then, you’ll need top security.”

Scarlucci nodded vaguely, making a few more notations in his pocket ledger. “If you’re suggesting your men could be taken on as extra security, I won’t disagree. I don’t want anyone coming along to see these rare prizes and getting it into their heads to steal them from me. You and your men might as well stay on here until the cargo is loaded aboard the ship.” He gave his lieutenant a simpering smirk. “After all, the chances of another target this valuable simply waltzing into your trap within days of the last is slim and none. There’s no rush to head back to the village and start throwing out the bait for the next catch.”

“Well, you’re not wrong about that, sir.” Cayse gave him a sly look. “If that’s your plan, what’s my next order?”

“I’m not keeping them here. It’s not as secure as the shop.” Scarlucci slapped the ledger closed and folded his hands over it, looking cool and in control. “They’ll be easier to transport if they’re out cold. Make it happen, we’ll move them under cover of darkness. I want to keep them a surprise.” He bit his lip as if to keep himself from bursting out with another eager squeal. “It’s going to be magnificent! Go, get to it. I’ve got messages to send to all my VIP clients.”

Ideo and Bluegilly had not been left for long before the leader returned from his conference to bark out orders for his men, some to set a proper guard and some to handle the slaves. The sun was setting, though the high walls of Altamarin made it so that the only light of it to be seen was high above where the sky was pale and distant, so only a vague, dim sense of it reached the windows of the Scarlucci Mansion. Only that light was given to the slaves while they were carefully maneuvered to be able to eat the meager meal set before them, armed thugs surrounding them and only one hand free while the other remained cuffed to an iron rail in the small room off the kitchen. The fading light only magnified the dread of the situation, as Ideo and Bluegilly got a grim look at just how they were seen by the nobles and their hired muscle – animals, brainless and useless and too dangerous to let off a leash even to eat food. It was the first they had been fed since being captured, so neither took it for granted and made sure to eat every morsel, in the off chance they would be further starved as a means of keeping them subdued. Unfortunately, that diligence was to be their downfall. Not long after both finished and were re-secured with arms behind their backs, Ideo found his vision swimming. Bluegilly blinked uncertainly at him, trying to focus, and then wavered and collapsed onto the floor. Ideo started and lunged toward him, but then he, too, grew dizzy and toppled over. The last thing he heard before he passed out was the raucous laughter of the thugs standing guard.

Discomfort and pain finally dragged Ideo into consciousness, and as he shook his head to try to throw off the lingering sensations of having been drugged again, he heard Bluegilly near him. “Are you awake? Good, I was worried for a bit there.”

“Eh…?” Ideo looked up and around to try to locate the source of the voice first, before bothering to fret about their situation. He could see a dark shape a few feet away, blinked a few times to try to focus, and then realized that the reason he couldn’t see much was because wherever they were, it was completely dark. Only a little ambient light came from somewhere beyond them, and it took a minute or two for his eyes to adjust to it. “Bluegilly…”

“I’m right here,” his comrade said gently, sitting up a little with an accompanying clink of shackles. “Are you all right, Ideo?”

“More or less.” Ideo was not at all surprised that he still couldn’t move his arms, but the more his head cleared, the more he figured out on his own. Instead of being bound behind his back, this time they were shackled above his head, his wrist cuffs hooked to something in order to keep him from bringing his arms down close to his body and use them to fight as he had in the prison. The space around them turned out to be a cage, or two cages really, since a wall of bars now separated them from each other, but there was something on the outside of the bars marking the perimeter, a curtain perhaps, keeping them from seeing the rest of the room or anything beyond. Only the roof of the cages was clear, but they only had a vague view of a nondescript ceiling above their heads. “Where are we?” the Longarm wondered.

“I don’t know but I’d take a wild guess that this is the shop that asshole was talking about earlier,” Bluegilly grumbled, shifting in a desperate attempt to get comfortable. He was also strung up in a new and unpleasant way, seated with his long legs out in front of him bent like a grasshopper’s, solid metal bars bracing his ankles and knees to keep him from drawing his legs together or bending them to kick. He glanced at Ideo, kneeling with his arms lashed to the cage top above him, and considered how shamelessly they were being displayed, their unique physical attributes front and center. They were both a bondage enthusiast’s greatest fantasy right now. The only good thing about their present situation was that they were side by side with mere bars between them, so they could still see each other and talk even if they couldn’t reach each other to touch any longer. “I haven’t heard any noise like there’s anyone else in here, I think we’re alone.”

“Small comfort.” Ideo flexed his hands inside his gloves, they felt like lead and the slight movement stirred the painful tingles of circulation returning. “Assholes, fucking drugged us _again_. How long were we out? They got us in here and trussed up like…like…”

“Meat for the market,” Bluegilly said darkly. “That’s all we are to them. You were out longer than I was, I woke up a little bit ago.” His thin lips twisted into a scowl. “It couldn’t have been too long, but it was still twilight when they knocked us out. Might have been an hour, might have been half the night.”

“If we’re alone…” Ideo rattled his wrist chains a bit, figuring that if anyone was around the sound would make them come and put a stop to it. There was nothing – no footsteps, no voices, no reaction. “…then there’s no one to hear us talk. We can work out our escape and no one’s gonna stop us.”

A small noise of frustration escaped Bluegilly. “You’re still thinking about escape? Look at where we are, Ideo. I hate to say it…” He looked across, his blue eyes gleaming like ice in the dim half-dark of the deserted shop. He had been awake long enough for his keen mind to run through all their options and come to an unpleasant conclusion. “…but things are getting dire, here. I haven’t seen a single chance for us to escape, and now we’re locked up even tighter.”

“We’ve got to get out of it,” Ideo said desperately, his voice low and gruff. “I know I don’t have to say this but we can’t let them take us to Mariejois. We’ve _got_ to find a way to get free.”

Bluegilly winced a little, hearing the note of worry underneath the determination and anger. “I know. Just…remember that the others are still out there. They admitted they just left them behind, they don’t even know how much of a crew we’ve got. And they don’t know about Abdullah and Jeet.”

Ideo’s brow furrowed even further, his eyes downcast at the floor of the cage before him. “Bluegilly,” he said heavily, “I think we have to consider the possibility that…that the rest of the crew won’t be able to save us.”

His comrade’s head jerked swiftly toward him. “What? Why?”

“It’s not that I don’t think they’re strong enough…” Ideo’s hands clenched into fists, making the leather of his gloves creak loudly in the quiet. “Those assholes only got us because they used dirty tricks. Any of our guys could take them in a fair fight. But…who knows if they can catch up before we’re loaded onto a ship and sent off. What if they can’t even get into the city because of the guard? There’s a chance they won’t even get close enough to know what’s happened to us, let alone save us.”

“They’ll make it,” Bluegilly said, trying his best to sound strong. “Jeet and Abdullah are damn good bounty hunters, and this kind of situation is exactly what they’ve been doing all their lives – hunting down someone they really want to find.” He breathed a short sigh. “I have to cling to that thought, because I know what you mean. I’m aware of the odds stacked against us and getting worse by the minute.”

“I don’t know how long we have before the point of no return,” Ideo murmured. “We can’t just sit tight and wait or it’ll be too late. That’s nothing but a false hope. If they can’t save us, we have to pay attention and look for any little chance to free ourselves if we can.”

“But can we? Is there even such a chance?” Bluegilly’s head tipped back until it clunked against the bars of the cage, his eyes drifting absently to the dark ceiling high above. “I _know_ we’re running out of time, but what can we even do?” He tried to stretch his legs, only proving how little he could move with the metal rods preventing his knees and ankles from closing together, and then sat up to clang his wrist shackles against the bars behind him. “Breaking out isn’t going to be so easy with seastone.”

“Seastone…?” Ideo looked up and then flexed his fists, twisting his hands until the cuffs dug into his wrists. It didn’t take much straining against the metal to figure out that it was not, in fact, iron or steel but something much tougher and harder to break. A rap of his knuckles against the cage above him proved the difference. “The bars aren’t,” he noted. “If I only had the right leverage, I could bust through them. But not the chains.”

“And the collars,” Bluegilly said morosely. “It’s pointless to break through everything else if we can’t get these damn collars off.”

“I know.” Ideo’s remark came out soft and resigned, as he turned his head to regard his comrade slumped against the bars once again. “I didn’t say I had any good ideas or that it was going to be easy. All I know is that we can’t give in to them. We can’t let them break us.”

Bluegilly closed his eyes for a moment. “I’m trying. But I’m tired, I’m still groggy from being drugged, and everything hurts because they keep twisting us into positions an acrobat would find painful. It’s making me pessimistic, I can’t help it.” His head rolled to the side, his eyes drifting open but staying downcast. “I hope you don’t think the worst of me for acting like this. I’m trying not to get depressed but my thoughts keep wandering to the worst-case scenario.”

“Of course I don’t,” Ideo assured, resting his chin on his upper arm in order to be able to look at his partner. “I get it, Bluegilly. This is a shit situation and we can’t just fight our way out of it. We’ve got a lot of time to just sit here and let the weight of our thoughts settle onto our shoulders.” His eyes lowered as well. “Worst-case scenario, we get our heads blown off.”

“Worst case,” Bluegilly repeated, “we don’t come out of this alive. I’d rather die than be sold to a Celestial Dragon, I’ll never let them have me. But rather than fight until the collar explodes, we should do it on our own terms. When all other options are exhausted,” he added more firmly. “I won’t give up until then. But I didn’t go out to sea just to become some jackass’s slave.”

“No,” Ideo agreed. “That isn’t why we gave up tournament life. I don’t want to think about that option, but…our lives belong to us, they can’t take them away from us.” The two of them locked eyes, and then he added, solemnly, “Both of us, together. If it comes to that. If nothing else can save us.”

Bluegilly nodded gravely. “Only if it comes to that.” He rested his head back against the bars again, gazing absently up through the top of the cage to the dark corners of the ceiling. “You know, I never gave the slavery thing much thought, not even when I heard stories like the one I mentioned before. But right now that’s all I can think about: those old tales from my childhood of people going missing when they wandered off toward the wrong beach or left the island and never came back. How many Longlegs thought they were going out into the world for adventure or a better life and ended up with a collar around their neck? Is anyone ever going to know that’s what happened to me, or are they just going to assume I got killed being a pirate? Maybe it’s better if that’s what they think…they don’t have to know.”

The despair in his voice was almost tangible, it made Ideo wilt where he crouched, his body weight dragging on his arms. It hurt to hear him worry, even if he had perfectly legitimate reasons to worry. He understood those fears, because he knew the same thing had happened to Longarms who let down their guard in the wrong places. No amount of hoping for their crewmates to swoop in to the rescue could banish those memories, the certainty that others of their tribes had met a horrific fate on the other side of an auction on Sabaody. He thought again of the flier he saw when he was just a young hot-headed boxer and grimaced to himself. “I tried to tell myself that we’ve been through this before, on Dressrosa,” he said darkly, “but this is totally different.” He didn’t need to explain further than that, they both knew full well what had happened there in the underground harbor. Their present situation mirrored it in so many ways – accidentally stumbling into a trap, captured, enslaved. Bluegilly’s brow knit to think of it, while Ideo continued. “We _were_ slaves there, even if we can look back at it now and know that it was only for a couple of hours. I’ve already sort of forgotten how it felt, it’s been so long. But, that time, we were just thrown into it right away. There was none of this long, drawn-out waiting to see what’s going to happen, the uncertainty about what our fate really will be.”

Bluegilly sat wrapped in pensiveness. “That time, we weren’t captured for any reason. They just took everyone who lost in the coliseum and got dumped into the scrap heap – both the strong, like us, who almost won their block, and the weak who got knocked into the water in under thirty seconds. They didn’t discriminate, they made toys out of pretty much everyone. Here, though…it’s because of what we are. Because of our races.” He scowled at the floor of the cage between his immobilized feet. “You’re not wrong, the waiting sucks and the doubt sucks, but I’ll add to that, the shitty feeling that we’re nothing more than our limbs. We’re not even people to them.”

Ideo flexed his hands idly, keeping them moving, though most of his attention was also cast down toward his knees. “Have you gotten a lot of that? Out in the New World, away from home.”

The Longleg glanced at him, some of his melancholy fading as he considered how strange the question was, given their relationship. They never actually talked about the differences between them, not even after scuffling with the two ships and leaving their own countrymen marooned behind them. A Longleg and a Longarm had become best friends and simply left it at that, they didn’t even talk about their home islands unless an oblique mention came up through another topic. Yet, the way both their races were viewed and treated in the wider world was yet another thing they had in common rather than something to drive them apart. “Not really,” he admitted after a bit. “The funny looks, yeah. Like I said before, you can’t hide legs like these. But then, I wouldn’t want to anyway.”

Ideo huffed a dry laugh. “Proud of ‘em, huh?”

“Of course I am. I worked hard on them!” Bluegilly answered with a touch of wry humor as well as absolute pride. “That’s why I got the tattoo, you know. It’s kind of a Longleg thing. You know – if you’ve got it, flaunt it.”

“I honestly didn’t know that,” Ideo confessed. “And here I assumed it was because you don’t get cold easily or can’t kick as well in long pants.”

“That too,” his comrade sniffed. “But…that’s the real reason. So, really, if I was scared of being mocked or looked down on for who I am, I wouldn’t show my pride. If anyone in the tournaments has ever said anything derogatory about me being a Longleg, they did it behind my back and I’ve never heard.” He looked up in order to deliberately catch Ideo’s gaze. “I know you said you don’t hide your arms for that reason, but…”

“It’s all for the surprise of the Destruction Cannon,” Ideo said strongly, moving his arms as if wishing he could tuck his upper elbows into sleeves that weren’t there. “Though, I wouldn’t have even come up with the idea if I hadn’t been on Sabaody at a time when they were auctioning off Longarms. People being jerks on the street, well.” He rolled his head in a sort of shrug. “ _If_ I were ashamed of being a Longarm, it might actually bruise my ego a little. But I’m not, so it doesn’t. Neither of us can change who we are, where we were born and how we look. This is the first time it’s ever really been a problem.”

“I hate it,” Bluegilly said morosely, his downcast mood returning. “I hate being constantly reminded that I’m only worth something because I’m a Longleg. Treated like an exotic animal at best, a piece of meat at worst. It’s like saying that if only I’d been born a _normal_ human on a different island, I would never be in this mess in the first place – I could go about my life never being afraid of a slave collar.”

Ideo’s whole posture slumped again, his arms going still. What his partner said resonated with him, it was indeed jarring and unpleasant to think that all his pride in his heritage, his culture, and his powerful arms was being thrown back in his face by their predicament. “I’m sorry, Bluegilly,” he murmured with head bowed. “I want to make it stop and I can’t. I can’t even say anything to get your mind off it, because it’s all just…empty words.” He roused himself a bit, just enough to shuffle around on his knees so that he was facing the cage next to his instead of straight forward, the better to keep his partner in his line of sight. “At least, this time, we haven’t forgotten each other. If we have to be in this together, we know we have each other. Hell…we’re closer now than we were that one time.”

“Yeah…we are.” Bluegilly cast him a mournful look. “Together until the end, until our last chance has run out.”

Hearing the grief in his tone, Ideo gritted his teeth. He couldn’t be upset with his companion, he had every right to dwell on the very real thought that their crew would never make it, that their chances of breaking out would all come to naught, and they’d have to decide just how close to Mariejois they’d allow themselves to be taken. “Dammit,” he seethed, “we’re not gonna die. We can’t die, not now! We haven’t fulfilled our dreams yet. We’re not supposed to be here, and we’re not supposed to die until Straw Hat is the Pirate King and we’re the strongest Longarm and Longleg pirates in the world, like we promised. This isn’t how it was supposed to go and all I want to do is get you out of it, but I’ve failed.”

“You haven’t failed anything,” Bluegilly countered. “This isn’t your fault, Ideo – or anyone’s really.”

“I wanted so badly to find a real challenge,” Ideo argued, “I didn’t stop and think. I should have been more careful, should’ve listened to my instincts when we landed and the guys said we should take more muscle along.”

“Stop it,” his comrade tiredly interrupted. “We didn’t make any mistakes. More guys would’ve just been knocked out on that street if we had them along. You did everything a captain should.”

Breathing a hard sigh, Ideo understood and accepted it, to a point. “But not everything a friend should. I can see you suffering, and it hurts. You’re worried and upset, and I don’t know how to make it stop.” He winced and shook his head. “Dammit, you’re my best friend and I have no way of taking away the pain and fear in this moment, and that pisses me off! I’d give up everything to protect you, it’s killing me that I can’t do a damn thing right now.”

Bluegilly blinked at him and his impassioned complaint. “I’m depressed and you’re pissed…”

“Anger helps,” Ideo weakly admitted. “I’ve been forcing myself to stay angry, because if I don’t I might get depressed, too. It’s all I know how to be.”

“I guess it’s better than nothing.” Bluegilly shifted as close as he could, leaning against the bars separating them. “You don’t have to take it all on yourself, Ideo. I’m in this with you. You don’t have to cheer me up or anything, if I’m going to wallow I’d rather it be with you here, sharing it with me.”

Ideo stretched his arms to their limits, and yet still couldn’t get close enough to the bars to touch. “Seeing you like this hurts worse than anything they’ve done to me,” he said sadly. “I understand what you’re saying, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I keep trying to find something to say to lift the weight off you just a little, but I’ve got nothing.”

His Longleg companion managed the faintest shadow of a smile to try to put him at ease, in turn. “I don’t know, all this stuff you’re saying about our friendship is kind of helping.”

“Aw, c’mon…” Ideo lowered his head as if to hide his eyes. “I’m not trying to get all sappy, I swear.”

“I’ve never heard you say it with such passion.” It wasn’t as though they didn’t know exactly how unique their relationship was, sometimes it was even painfully obvious how unusual they were compared to their tribes, but it wasn’t something that needed to be mentioned constantly – or at all. Similarly, they never told one another in so many words that they trusted each other, it simply was. But knowing that his partner was not the type to even make friends, let alone form a real bond with just anyone, Bluegilly couldn’t help but be amazed when he heard words like that. They had gone through a lot together, and here they were again, just the two of them in a pinch with only each other to rely upon, but he genuinely hadn’t expected Ideo to be so open about how he felt. His heart clenched in his chest in yearning, but he ignored it for now. “Maybe I was wrong, the other night. About you not wanting a friend.”

“No, you’re not.” Ideo was quiet but there was an unapologetic honesty to his tone. “Maybe it wasn’t a conscious thing I did, but you read it right. You’re just…different. Not the Longleg thing,” he hastily added. “I never stopped to think about what you are, you’ve always just been a person to me. A martial artist, a Jiaokungdo expert, a potential rival in the ring, maybe a flirt, but ‘a Longleg’ never came into it.” He remembered the late nights sitting around the palace of Dressrosa talking, and knew it was true. They connected to one another on another level almost immediately, and that level was what made them still, and perhaps always, true friends. “Is it so wrong?” he went on after a moment. “I just…that’s just the way it is between us, Bluegilly, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’d rather…” They had talked about it, and though he didn’t want to bring it up again, it made a perfect illustration to his point. “…die with you, than go on without you.”

He lifted his gaze slightly and met Bluegilly’s looking back at him, solemn but not afraid, that deep trust gleaming in their depths. There were no secrets and no lies between them, not even now in the darkened shop with their limbs chained, their necks collared, and their destinies in doubt. “It sounds selfish,” the vice-captain admitted, “but I’d rather have that, too. Whatever happens, I won’t let you sacrifice yourself for me. There’s nothing noble and brave about one of us escaping without the other at this point. But…I also don’t want this to be the end of the Ideo Pirates.” His brows knit with something of an exasperated look. “We just barely got started. We don’t even have bounties yet.”

“We’ll get there,” Ideo said, not sounding nearly as hopeful as before, but almost as angry, privately heaping blame on these slave hunters for derailing the forward march of his crew. “I don’t know how, but I have to keep reminding myself that this isn’t right – this isn’t where we should be. You put your trust in me and made me your captain, as well as your best friend. I can’t give up until I’ve given you everything in return. If I have to rip my arms off to make it so I’m no longer worth selling, I’ll do it…”

“Don’t rip your arms off,” Bluegilly said wryly, rolling his eyes. “It’ll be hard to punch anyone without arms.”

“You can teach me Jiaokungdo,” Ideo retorted. “I can still kick, right?” It was an absurd turn of thought, though, and he backtracked just as quickly as he had entertained it. He eased back to the center of his prison, letting his arms just hang from the chain over his head to rest for a moment. “I don’t know what to do, Bluegilly, and just waiting here for something to change is hard for me. Fighting my way out is all I know. But all of our strength is for nothing now that they’ve got the collars on us…what does that leave me with?” His gloved hands clenched into fists with the desire to punch something, even if there was no way to do so. “We have to get out of this somehow. We have to go on, with our little crew, until we’re the strongest we can possibly be and we’ve reached all our goals. It’s a long, hard road to the end of the Grand Line, and we need to get there, get strong enough for Straw Hat to accept us into his fleet. We’ll stand there shoulder to shoulder with him and watch this new age come in.” He was starting to ramble but he didn’t care, he could see the future unfolding in his imagination and wanted to share it with his companion. “And then when it’s over we can retire from pirate life on some backwater little island where nobody’ll bother us, and we can spend our days beating the shit out of each other to prove who’s stronger and then sit on the beach with a drink until the sun sets and then get up and do it all over again. Wouldn’t that be great?” He breathed a faint laugh to himself, knowing how crazy of an idea it was, considering they could die at any time in their journey and still consider it a fitting fate. Much better than slavery, at least. “I know, it sounds dumb, but maybe it’s something we can do someday. Something to live for, and not just die for. Wouldn’t it be fun? The greatest Longarm and Longleg pirates ever, hanging out together until we’re too old to even punch each other. Our tribes would have a fit.”

Listening to him ramble did more for Bluegilly’s mood than any lies they could tell themselves about getting out of their predicament. He smiled to himself, envisioning that crazy idea of a distant future where powerful ex-pirates could spend all day fighting and never get tired of it, and immediately wanted it to become reality. There was something he’d been meaning to tell his partner for days, and decided that in this state of grim desperation, he might as well just say it. He rested his head against the bars and lifted his blue eyes bravely. “I love you, Ideo,” he said gently. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but…it just hasn’t been the right time, I guess. Not that this is really the best time, either,” he added with a self-deprecating laugh under his breath.

Ideo sat up fully, eyes widening. He definitely wasn’t expecting that, it derailed his haphazard thoughts completely. “What…?”

“I’m not expecting a confession from you or anything in return,” Bluegilly went on quickly. “All I know is, if we end up losing this fight and get all the way to the auction, and have to put that worst-case plan into action…if I hadn’t said anything to you, I would die with regrets. I don’t want that.” He looked away, finding it easier to pour out his heart that way. “It wouldn’t be worth continuing this journey without you. I don’t care what happens from here on out so long as we’re together – till the end, whatever end is in store for us.”

He looked up again to find Ideo hunched over, head drooping between his shackled arms, shoulders shaking a little. “I don’t know what to say…” he mumbled half to himself, his voice carrying a hint of a tremor in it.

“Ideo…” Bluegilly pressed his shoulder and arm against the bars, yearning to go to him even though so much stood in the way. “I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s fine.” Ideo lifted his head, revealing a faint smile of disbelief, brown eyes shining with emotion. “I would have been happy for the rest of my life with a friend to go through it with me, but this is…” He raised the middle segment of one arm to scrub his face on it as if trying to hold back an even stronger reaction. “Sorry, I guess this whole thing has me rattled, too. I can’t push down my emotions like I want to.”

His comrade chuckled wanly. “Like I’m any better, making sappy love confessions in the middle of the night in a cage. I think we’re both too tired and sore to be logical about anything right now.”

“A little bit, yeah.” Ideo shook his head slowly. “Don’t apologize for it. Maybe it’s not the right time to talk about it but…” Even with his gaze low, he managed to keep that shadow of a smile on his face. “I had no idea. I didn’t expect to ever hear someone say something like that to me.”

“Not even after going on about dying together…” Bluegilly shook his head, not in the least bit surprised; he knew too well that Ideo could be thick-headed, even if this was one time he really wished he wasn’t. “Is it really so hard to believe?”

Ideo’s eyes drifted closed. “I don’t know how to explain it right now. When we’re out of here. We’ll talk, all right?”

“I’ll hold you to that, this time.” It gave Bluegilly a reason not to give up, if nothing else, but part of him already wished he could take it back. It was too late now, he’d bared his heart with no way of getting any kind of resolution anytime soon. His eyes roamed over his partner’s form, mostly looking for signs of pain and discomfort but also admiring him, and then mentally berated himself for ogling at a time like this with the chains and cages. “You all right?” he asked for lack of anything else to say just then.

“Yeah.” Ideo didn’t know if he meant physically or otherwise, given the topic at hand, but in both senses he felt as though it was the right answer. Exhausted, hungry, and stretched to his limits, but not dead, so that still counted as fine. He raised his eyes and gazed at his vice-captain in turn, still worried about him but feeling as though the connection between them had deepened exponentially in the last few minutes. “Get some sleep,” he encouraged. “You’ll probably have an easier time of it than I will.”

“You need rest, too,” Bluegilly argued.

“I’m not going to be able to,” his captain demurred. “With my arms over my head like this? There’s no way I’ll be able to fall asleep unless I actually pass out. On top of that…” He squeezed his hands into fists with another creak of leather. “I need to move around to keep the blood circulating into my hands. They’re already tingling, it’s not good for them.”

“Oh. Yeah, that.” Bluegilly looked up at his flexing fingers, and then settled down where he was with his shoulder against the bars. “I’ll try. No promises.”

Ideo asked for none, content to let him do as his body was capable of since he had it no better. Even an uncomfortable position like that allowed for at least a chance at sleep, even if it meant waking up in the morning with the imprint of the bars against his face. The Longarm captain sat vigil from the other side, making no movement until he was certain from the shallow breathing and subtle slack in his jaw that his companion had truly fallen asleep. Only then did Ideo shift and stretch, pushing himself up enough to even out the circulation in his arms for a bit. It was a long night alone with his thoughts as he watched over Bluegilly, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He was still reeling over the spur-of-the-moment confession, but he kept the memory of those words fresh in his heart, cherishing them like a flame of hope. He couldn’t believe someone in this harsh world of pirates actually had come to care so deeply for him, and he had to kick himself for not noticing whether any of their private dealings had become more than just physical. He cared for Bluegilly, too, but had no frame of reference for when deep bonds of friendship like theirs could be called something else. For so much of his life Ideo had been alone, friendless, keeping everyone at a distance of acquaintance and perfectly fine with it that way. It was just how he was, he always assumed. Then along came the Longleg, and something new and different awakened in his life. He regretted nothing of their time together, and his dreams of becoming so successful that they could retire together and live out their lives in each other’s company were sincere. He didn’t know if it meant he was also in love, but at the very least, Ideo decided that whatever they wanted to call it, he and Bluegilly were in it for life just as they both wanted. Now all they had to do was survive this ordeal, so that it didn’t all come to an end in mere days or weeks. He rested his head in the crook of one upper elbow, never taking his eyes off his slumbering partner’s face. Considering the darkness, exhaustion, and pain, he felt almost guilty for the overwhelming sense of joy invading his heart and mind. It was all he had to sustain him through his suffering.

Both captives came awake with a start from a sudden burst of noise around them to realize that dawn had come and there were other people in the shop. The cages remained curtained off, but after a minute or two someone ducked through in the back where the doors to their prisons lay and set about checking on how their slaves had come through the night. There were no offerings of food or comfort, only a cursory once-over and then the curtain dropped again. Whatever was going on, they were being treated as no more than merchandise on a shelf – ignored, talked around instead of toward, while the slave hunters providing security worked alongside Scarlucci and his staff to prepare their shop for opening. Ideo rubbed his face against one upper arm, only realizing after waking that he had in fact gotten a few delirious dozes in – nothing substantial, but it could be said that he technically slept. Bluegilly looked a little more rested, though there was a faint red welt against his temple where he’d leaned against the bars most of the night. A shake of his head and his unruly hair hid it, thankfully, so no one had to come and manhandle him yet again to make him look presentable. There was no chance for them to talk, all they could do was share encouragement with meaningful glances between cages while they still had their privacy. At last, the shuffling and murmuring around them coalesced into firm, sharp words, as whatever was going on around the shop was finished and Scarlucci’s oily voice ordered the doors to be opened. The two captives could hear everything clearly – the creak of the shop door, the rise in noise from the street outside, and the soft tread of feet as people were admitted inside. There was some intrigued murmuring among them, and the shop owner welcoming a few by name, but it was a good bit before the street sounds vanished behind the closing of the door and Scarlucci cleared his throat. “My esteemed clients,” he addressed them, “I’m so glad all of you received my invitation. My only regret is that I cannot offer you the chance to purchase the merchandise I have on display today, but because you’ve all been such wonderful customers, I decided to offer you a sneak peek before I open the doors to the public!”

“Sneak peek?” a man challenged. “At something we can’t even buy? What are you playing at, Scarlucci?”

“Come now, aren’t you the least bit curious what I have behind the curtains?” the slave trader cajoled. “Can you not even imagine what might be so impressive that I would put on a VIP reception for your pleasure?” Several voices tittered at that, enjoying his showmanship and growing eager to see what he meant. “Very well, then, if you need to see it to believe it, then let me show you!”

The curtains around the cages whipped away at his command, and the sudden burst of daylight through the large-paned shop windows made Ideo and Bluegilly flinch just enough that they didn’t see the crowd of faces before them gape and gasp all at the same time. There was a moment’s pause while the elite clients came to recognize what they were seeing, and then one said in awe, “A real Longarm!”

“I’ve never seen one before…”

“Is that an actual Longleg?”

“And a handsome one, too.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” A man in a feathered hat turned sharply to the shop owner, who stood just off to the side of the cages with chest thrust out proudly. “This is no joke, is it, Scarlucci? They’re the real thing!”

“Of course they are!” the nobleman crowed. “You see how I stretched out the arms and the legs so you can verify that they are genuine, flesh and muscle only, no fakery involved.”

“Incredible!” someone else cried. “How did you get them?”

“As I’ve told you…” Scarlucci rubbed his goatee knowingly. “My men are top notch. It’s their job to net treasures from the sea, and this time they’ve outdone themselves. You see, with your own eyes, the fruits of their labor. A truly rare pair, one Longleg and one Longarm, captured together. Never doubt that Scarlucci Imports can bring in the biggest, most lucrative prizes for you.”

A chorus of impressed murmuring went up from the crowd, as they fell completely for his line and privately considered that maybe this company really was the best to handle all matters of the slave trade. Some bellied right up to the bars, and though they looked like they wanted to reach into the cage and poke and prod the merchandise, they refrained for now. “Are you sure you can’t sell them?” a man implored. “I have seven hundred thousand in the bank, I can drop it right now for the Longarm!”

Ideo’s head came up slightly, but he was too tired to bristle at them so early in the morning. Scarlucci shook his head and clucked his tongue. “Really, Adric, do you think I would let either of them go for the base price? Take a closer look, they’re not just rare and exotic – they’re strong. They’ll go for millions if I offer them to the Celestial Dragons!”

A fair number of onlookers oohed in awe. “Millions!”

“How much?” another pressed. “Name your price!”

Scarlucci looked indifferent. “I really can’t let them go for less than ten million.” He paused for dramatic effect and then added, “each.”

The “each” turned several hopeful looks into downhearted frowns. “I don’t have that much to spare,” someone said sadly.

“I would have to sell off all of my current slaves for just one of them,” another fretted. “But I want both! It’s a set!”

“I’ve never seen either kind before, seeing them together is like a miracle!” yet another squealed.

The chatter went on for a while, as the VIP patrons circulated around the cages, getting a good look at each captive from all sides and then passing Scarlucci to offer their congratulations and gratitude for letting them get the first look. It was indeed a shame that no one present could drop that kind of money on a whim, and most agreed that it would be most beneficial to auction them off to the Celestial Dragons. The longer it went on, the more Ideo and Bluegilly found themselves wanting the curtains and the uncertainty back. At least now they could see their prison fully for what it was – a large storefront that served as the clearing-house for slaves meant both for the local market and for transportation to auction elsewhere. Their cages were in the center as a featured display, but there were others along the back and side walls, currently empty. The area around the desk had other items up for sale, mostly artwork and artifacts, with a sign indicating that should Scarlucci Imports come into any Devil Fruit, only VIP clients would be privy to even see it, let alone make offers for it. The nobleman was basically a high-class fence, though he seemed to make most of his money through the slave trade, which could only be offered to the world nobles living in this protected city. Given their clothing and attitudes, clearly every single individual in the shop at the moment was a noble, bartering over human lives without a care and laughing falsely at each other’s snide jokes. It seemed to take forever for Scarlucci to finally send them all on their way, and he paused only briefly to give his thugs some orders for security purposes before he threw open the doors yet again to admit the general public. Unlike the elite nobles, these had to pay admission to be able to see the rare creatures on display, but the departing VIPs had been naturally talkative, and rumor of just what was inside Scarlucci Imports spread like wildfire. The first few curious souls turned into a swell of townspeople eager to catch a glimpse and ready to pay up for the chance. It was all going according to plan, as far as the slave trader was concerned, and he stood behind his desk with an evil smile as he watched the gawking crowds surge through his door.

Only the exhaustion from his lack of sleep and decent food kept Ideo from showing his savage Longarm nature to everyone who came up to stare at them, though he did bare his teeth a few times. Being treated like zoo animals was infuriating and embarrassing, to say nothing of all those who eyed his naked arms and torso and Bluegilly’s bare legs as if they were meat in a butcher shop. They were splayed out for public consumption, stripped of their dignity and humanity and not even required to perform in order to put on a show. There were more than just rich nobles passing by their cages, now, enough variety in faces and clothing to suggest that there were other types of people living in the city, though not a single grubby farmer or scruffy street urchin among them. Shop owners, artisans, law enforcement, and such, but no real laborers or anyone who looked to be genuinely poor. They weren’t members of the elite class capable of buying and owning slaves, but they could admire them, and infer from Scarlucci’s display that if they were in the market for illegal artifacts or Devil Fruit or had something to unload, this would be the place to do such business. It was all playing into Scarlucci’s advertising plans, making him the talk of the town and the first name on the lips of anyone who might have need of his services. The townsfolk got their money’s worth out of it, getting to behold two creatures they had only heard of as if in myth, immobilized and presented to them with no risk of danger, and Bluegilly could hear many of them whispering among themselves about how incredible it was to see these freaks in person. He was starting to think Ideo had a good idea, forcing himself to stay angry, and it wasn’t hard to do when people were staring at his groin all day, since it was thrust out there with his long legs for all to see. He caught more than a few women letting their gaze linger too long, torn between intrigue and scandalization. Most of Ideo’s admirers were men, impressed by his apparent strength and yet amused by his weird three-segmented arms, finding him as entertaining as a monkey and just as harmless when bound up and collared. The day dragged on painfully long, and the humiliation of it weighed heavy on their hearts, bowing their heads and reducing the continuous stream of humans with their mouths open and eyes wide surging up against the bars and then fading away to let the next group have a look to a vague blur at the edge of their senses. So many commented on the once-in-a-lifetime chance to see a specimen of each tribe, considering how much they hated each other, and speculated on whether they were so busy fighting each other that they didn’t see their captors until it was too late. Eventually, Ideo fought past his exhaustion to find a second wind energizing his anger, and he began to fix everyone who came up to gape at him with a glower that promised he would find them and kill them if he could ever get out of that cage. It only fueled their amusement, as they jostled each other and proclaimed him scary through laughing lips, looking him over with pure condescension rather than pity. Several muttered about the long-held belief that Longarms were bloodthirsty barbarians who roamed around attacking anything that moved, and Ideo had no problem fueling that myth with a well-aimed glare. Then, he spotted something vaguely familiar among the sea of faces, and all of his attention diverted toward it: narrow, square sunglasses glinting in the light from the shop windows. He was sure he would know them anywhere, though the tall, thickset man wearing them dipped his head down in order to lock eyes with him and verify exactly what he was thinking. A moment later, he heard Bluegilly give a soft grunt of interest and the chains jingle as he sat up slightly, also noticing the same thing. Once he was certain they had both gotten a good look at him, Abdullah lifted his head to hide his gaze behind his glasses again and silently moved off through the crowd. He was shrouded in a long, dark coat with a high collar and a tall hat covered his balding head and scars, but it was definitely him. They couldn’t tear their eyes away from him, following him as he weaved in and out of the pack of rubberneckers, gauging the situation and studying the security precautions and layout of the shop without appearing to do so. When he was satisfied with what he had learned, Abdullah shot them both one last quick glance and then vanished.

For all he had said the night before about his fears that their crewmates wouldn’t be able to rescue them, Ideo couldn’t stop the swell of hope that gripped his heart in his chest. The biggest obstacle had been overcome, the crew had in fact caught up in time and successfully infiltrated the city. Where Abdullah was, Jeet would be, and so would the rest of their men. He glanced to meet Bluegilly’s eyes, finding him grim but equally hopeful, and they shared a nod with each other before relaxing their limbs and steeling themselves to endure however many more hours of this zoo treatment lay ahead of them. With no way to communicate with their comrades, they had to sit tight and prepare to leave it up to them to carry out some kind of rescue plan.

The day was already waning at that point, it was growing near the usual dinner hour and the crowds began to thin out some, though there was still something of a line outside. Scarlucci went out to admonish his patrons to come back again in the morning, and for the first time his captives heard a clear admission of how much time was actually being afforded to them. There was a promise of a few days of this display, definitely tomorrow and the day after, maybe one or two days after that, so anyone still in line could get their chance to see the unique display of rare creatures on one of those days. Once the door was closed and locked and only his gang on guard remained, Scarlucci’s unctuous showman’s tone dropped and he turned curt and businesslike. “Work out your watch shifts however you want, I don’t care,” he snapped at a couple of the thugs. “Just so long as there’s always the same number on watch at a time overnight. I want some out front, watching the door from the street, and the larger part in back guarding the alley. Now that everyone in the city knows what I have here, I want you on the lookout for anyone thinking they can save themselves ten million beli by stealing one of them.”

“What’s the word on how long it’s going to take before the ship is ready?” his lieutenant asked, clearly more interested in how much labor his men would have to do to protect their investment than in Scarlucci’s bottom line.

“At least another two days,” the nobleman answered swiftly, moving through the shop to his desk. “I expect tomorrow I’ll be contacted by some of my VIP customers to unload the slaves they don’t want, now that they’ve seen something new and different. I’ll pack that cargo in with the valuables. Make sure your men do their duty,” he warned, “no falling asleep in the back room. There is a high chance of theft after so many people have been in and out of the shop today.” He gathered up some papers and then gestured at his prized captives. “Feed them and clean them up, but don’t leave them unchained for more than a few minutes. Get it done and get them back in place.”

The gang leader nodded and waited until he had departed through the back before turning and passing those orders on to his men. Ideo and Bluegilly found themselves instantly surrounded, a double guard standing by while Cayse unlocked the cages’ back doors and gave them a threatening look to prevent them from lashing out at him for leaning in to uncuff them. Only one hand at a time, though, in order to eat the meager meal tossed in front of them. As much as both pirates were on the lookout for a chance to have a hand in their own rescue, it looked as grim as ever. Even if they took a risk that Scarlucci wouldn’t want their heads blown off, attempting to fight this many with limbs already tired and hard to control and only one hand free of the seastone cuffs would undoubtedly end badly. The way their bodies had been contorted for display was already affecting their ability to haul off and punch or kick anyone who got too close. One at a time they were manhandled out of the cages to use the bathroom, physically dragged there and back with guns to their chests and a full guard staring them down the whole time they were in there. Every precaution was being taken as if they were two dangerous criminals under arrest, nothing was left to chance. Once he had them locked back up exactly as they had been all day long, Cayse turned to one of his men. “I’ve got to deliver these keys to Scarlucci. Hold the fort until I get back.”

Once a door in the distance slammed, the remaining gang members hung the curtain back up around the cages so that no one could come by and peek in through the front windows for a free look at what everyone else had paid to see, and then melted away to their stations, leaving the pair alone in the empty shop again. They still waited until they could be absolutely sure that no one was around to hear them before stretching themselves as far as their bonds would allow and gossiping in whispers. This time, Ideo turned so his back was more or less to Bluegilly and pulled his arms as far as they would go, twisting to talk over his shoulder at much closer range than the night before. “You saw it, right?”

“Shh! Hang on.” The vice-captain listened cautiously, but there really was no one else in the shop. “Yeah,” he breathed in response. “I told you.”

“Gloat later,” Ideo huffed. “Any ideas?”

“We still can’t bust ourselves out,” Bluegilly noted. “Maybe they’ll try something in the middle of the night. Feel like waiting up for the chance?”

“I’m getting so damned tired of waiting,” his captain grumbled. “But it’s not like I’m gonna sleep anyway.”

“True. Problem, though.” His hush turned even quieter, and Bluegilly tossed his head as if to gesture toward the rear of the shop where the guards had gone. “You heard them. The keys.”

Ideo glanced up to the chains keeping his hands in that insufferable position. Not just the shackles, but the collars around their necks, could not be removed without the keys, which they clearly heard were with Scarlucci. Even if their crew was here in Altamarin, there was no way they would come across this information on their own. “We won’t get ten steps out the door before someone activates the collars,” he muttered. “And that’s if someone can even do something about the seastone. These bastards, they’ve really got every contingency covered.”

“If you go about it the usual way,” Bluegilly countered with a sly undertone, “bulldozing straight ahead with your fists. Give Abdullah and Jeet some credit. They’ll come up with something.”

Ideo nodded slowly. Friendship and other relationships aside, this was why he had people around him – he might have been captain, but captains needed a crew, and this was precisely why. Bluegilly had a shrewd head for strategy, and the two former bounty hunters knew their way around the underworld, they could back him up with plans upon plans and keep him pointed in the right direction. Still… “I fucking hate waiting,” he repeated in a growl.

Nothing happened that night, but then, it was probably for the best if there were so many obstacles in the way of actually getting free. The pair of pirates did their best not to get their hopes up, and even allowed themselves to doze off at some point, but morning brought them sharply awake again not with the expectation of another long day of physical and emotional torment, but rather the eager hope that this might be the end of it. It wasn’t long after the shop opened that their comrades were back, raising their spirits just from the sight of them shouldering through the door and knocking a few gawkers out of their way. Abdullah was wearing the same disguise as the day before, and this time he had Jeet with him, the two of them making such a fuss that Ideo and Bluegilly had to fight to suppress smirks at their antics. Jeet had gone all out, he was decked out in a fancy embroidered robe over his caftan, a jewel-encrusted turban, and more necklaces and rings than anyone had seen on one human body before, and barely two steps into the shop and he was making noise in an outrageous put-on accent. “What are all these rabble doing in my way?” he howled, gesturing to Abdullah. “You’re my bodyguard, make them move. Where is the owner of this establishment?”

Scarlucci spotted the jewels before he heard them and rushed right over. “May I help you today, Mr…?”

“ _Prince_ Jet Singh, unworthy peasant,” Jeet said snidely. “I have come a long way in search of fresh slaves for my kingdom. Someone told me you were the premiere trader in this city.” He turned to look over the heads of the crowd to the prominent display cages and his eyes widened. “Oho! What do we have here?”

Eager to please potential rich customers, Scarlucci swept past him and practically elbowed a number of visitors aside to make a clear path to the cages. “These are my newest and most valuable items, your highness,” he hurried to explain, bowing deeply. “One each, a Longleg and a Longarm, captured just off our coast in the past couple of days.”

Jeet made a great show of striding up and checking them out, and it took everything in their power for Ideo and Bluegilly not to show any sign of recognition. “Magnificent,” Jeet pronounced them, turning swiftly on his heel so as not to make it harder on them. “They would make excellent guards for my harem, or maybe I’ll pit them against each other in gladiatorial matches. Is that all you have? I see nothing else even on display.”

“Ah, right now? No,” Scarlucci admitted. “But these two are such high-value prizes, I’ve made them my priority. I plan to send them to the auctions for the Celestial Dragons.”

“No need.” Jeet held up a hand. “I would like them. A package deal would be nice, but we can talk it over in negotiations. Abdu, look them over and make sure he isn’t hiding their flaws – I would never accept damaged goods.”

He strode pompously back toward the desk to the side with Scarlucci groveling behind him the whole way, already trying to explain that he couldn’t let these items go for anything less than a fair price, but instead of a straight denial of service as he had given his VIPs yesterday, he seemed willing to at least entertain negotiations with a foreign prince who seemed rather rich and well-connected. While Jeet held his attention with superb acting, Abdullah shoved more townspeople out of the way and went up to the cages to inspect the merchandise for himself. The people currently spectating in the shop were rightly intimidated by their show and gave him a wide berth, which is exactly what he needed. He leaned up against the bars and thrust his face forward, presumably to look closely for bruises or broken bones. When he spoke, his lips hardly moved. “Alive and well?” came the secretive murmur.

“Unhurt,” Ideo answered, likewise keeping his words short, his tone quiet, his head bowed to hide his face as much as he could.

Abdullah covered his mouth under the pretense of stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Tell me anything you can.”

Glancing first to verify that the shop owner and his guards were good and distracted, Ideo gave a small jerk of his head toward the shackles chaining his arms above him. “Seastone. Scarlucci has the keys. Collars, too.”

Abdullah glanced over his shoulder at the nobleman in heated negotiations with “Jet Singh” and put it all together for himself. He walked around to Bluegilly’s side, tipping his head in order to give him a genuine look of sympathy and determination over his glasses before it was gone again, hidden behind his persona as the prince’s bodyguard. Bluegilly subtly relaxed to see it, and then deliberately turned his eyes to the side, picking out each of the guards in turn so that Abdullah would follow and note them for himself. Once he caught on, the bounty hunter nodded and then moved back to Ideo, reaching through the bars to poke him and receiving a completely faked lunge and snarl that made him laugh darkly. “They’re lively, your highness,” he called out to Jeet. “Definitely worth the price.” Lowering his tone again, he lifted his eyes straight to Ideo’s face. “Sit tight. We got this.”

Jeet signaled him with a nod and then turned back to Scarlucci, stroking his mustache importantly. “Ten million each, you say? It’s possible, but I will have to call the treasury to authorize it. Father will be loath to spend that much on just two slaves, but perhaps I can convince him of the worth. I will return tomorrow with my answer. Abdu, come!” He clapped his hands and turned swiftly again, and the crowds parted to let him and his bodyguard pass through unmolested. They attracted almost as much attention as the main event in the cages, and the townsfolk murmured long after they were gone. Scarlucci took out an embroidered handkerchief to mop his brow and then straightened up his waistcoat and tie before resuming his duties as emcee and host for all the visitors paying to see his rare items. As he did, a couple of people cried out that their wallets were missing, and the store was thrown into mayhem for a second time. Bluegilly and Ideo shared a smirk to themselves; clearly, Abdullah had been unable to resist a little old-fashioned pick-pocketing on his way out.

The rest of the day passed much the same as the first, but now that they’d made contact with their crewmates, the two captive pirates were in much better spirits. They did less slouching and avoiding gazes and spent far more time studying the structure of the shop, the distance to the windows, and the ebb and flow of traffic around them, taking note of anything that might be useful in a rescue attempt. Whatever their comrades were plotting on their own, they had to at least be ready to flee, and would make things easier by knowing from observation which direction not to run in order to not be recaptured. Any intention their captors had of breaking their spirits by humiliating them was rapidly becoming unlikely, their emotions successfully suppressed in order to focus on the whisper of potential rescue. At last they could patiently ignore the gawkers and focus on the faces of the gang members standing guard, counting them, considering their weapons, and watching their movements as they changed shifts. Given their reactions to the interrupting foreigners, Ideo was sure now that their captors had never seen the rest of the crew that had stayed aboard the ship, so they were completely fooled by the act and did not suspect in the least that the prince and his bodyguard were not exactly there to buy slaves. It meant that the harbor gang as a whole did not expect that there would be a crew coming to the rescue – perhaps they truly believed that the two men they had left for dead had been it, and they really were dead, and there was no threat to even consider. As capable as they were when it came to manhandling slaves and making sure they didn’t escape, this gang’s collective intelligence did not impress Ideo one bit. They had only one thing on their mind – the money they would be making once the sale went through – and like he had seen before, greed was blinding them to the big picture. Still, he knew they would be trouble in a fight. All he and Bluegilly could do was hope that Abdullah had gleaned enough information to be able to plan a successful tactic.

After nightfall, after the shop was closed, the captives were tended, and the curtains were drawn around their cages once again, the real job of the slave hunters began. Scarlucci may have held the keys to the shackles and collars, way over in his mansion, but he took no additional security with him, figuring that the real treasure was in the shop and intending to prevent thieves from even sniffing around at the tempting target inside by deploying every man at his disposal there. Every last gang member who had come up from the harbor with the wagon was on duty, some out in front and the rest in back watching every potential entryway, even one on the roof. Altamarin was generally quiet after dark, the noble residents weren’t the type to carouse all night at bars and parties like pirates, but the thugs knew enough of the ways of the city that they were on high alert, eyeballing anyone who happened to still be out and about. Cayse had his people split into shifts, and the ones meant to take over in the middle of the night were upstairs in the parlor having a nap while the current shift patrolled the alley and watched the streets gradually empty and go silent. Some distance away, Abdullah waited with the bulk of the crew, hidden rather well in an overgrown garden and peeking out from behind a trellis covered in vines. Their job was to bide their time, wait for one crucial element to be under their control before moving. He and his partner both knew from lengthy experience that sometimes, a frontal assault was the worst idea, no matter how good it might feel to charge right in and start smashing things. It was foolish to risk the success of the mission when a more clever, stealthier plan would suffice. To that end, Abdullah admonished his comrades to be patient. When the time was right he would give orders, but a quick squint at the moon told him that it wasn’t yet.

Halfway across the city, Jeet stole along the high stucco walls which fenced many of the estates, alone and swifter for it. With his sabers stowed behind his back, he moved quickly to avoid being out in the open too long, darting across intersections and using the walls and gardens as cover so that not even an idle eye gazing out their bedroom window would see him pass. Their crew had done well, one had followed Scarlucci back to his mansion and was able to map it out so that Jeet could get there with little fuss. He found the property exactly as directed and gave it a few long minutes of study before coming to the conclusion that the fool had left himself entirely unguarded. He’d been expecting security to be beefed up here as well as the shop, but it seemed Scarlucci did not consider himself a target in any sense. Jeet looked both ways and then sprang lightly over the wall, slipping into the shadows and prowling along to the shrubbery under the windows. He circled around to the back near the servants’ entrance where just two nights before, Ideo and Bluegilly had been cleaned up and then drugged in order to get them into the shop without a struggle. The only obstacles he met were locked doors and windows, but a bounty hunter of his caliber didn’t get to be where he was by not knowing how to pick locks and break into secure buildings. It was almost too easy, it made him wary and slowed him down as he crept stealthily through the house, expecting to be set upon at any minute and both amused and concerned that he wasn’t. The lower floor was dark and empty, so he made his way upstairs and snuck around learning which room was which until he found the master bedroom. He and his crewmates had timed it all right, it was late enough now that noblemen with business to attend to in the morning were already in bed. Could he be so lucky? Jeet pressed his ear against the door, but couldn’t hear any telltale snores to give him the all-clear yet. He hunted around for a good hiding spot and saw it across the hall, a decorative screen through which anyone could see during daylight but now, in the darkness, would be as concealing as anything else. He was just about to duck behind it when he heard the rustle of clothing and turned swiftly, loosing one saber as he did and bringing it up at throat-level. On the other side of the sharp blade stood a woman, though the collar around her neck surely would have prevented him from beheading her if that was his intent. Jeet bristled, ready to fight or flee, but the longer she simply stood there, saying nothing, doing nothing, the more he grew perplexed and then annoyed. Curling his lip in a sneer, he breathed, “You don’t wanna be here, girlie. You see nothing.”

The woman blinked once, heavy and slow. Whether she was unafraid of the saber or simply too scared to move was unclear. “Have you come to kill Mr. Scarlucci?” she wondered, keeping her voice equally low.

Jeet’s eyes narrowed. “He’s got something I need,” he answered. “Whether or not he survives the night depends on how this goes.”

“He’s a heavy sleeper,” the woman said mournfully. “You should kill him. It would be easy.”

At that, Jeet’s eyes bugged out in surprise. The collar told him a long story, but the woman’s demeanor threw a few extra interesting twists into it. He held still for a minute, and then tossed his head toward the door behind him. “Sure, sure, and as soon as I turn to go in and do that, you’ll scream and bring the whole house down on me.”

“I could have already screamed,” she pointed out flatly. “If you want me to promise not to scream, then I want a promise from you.” One hand slowly came up and pointed at the collar, bypassing his blade with ease. “He has the keys to this in his room. If you unlock it, I’ll make sure you get out.”

Jeet could hardly believe his luck, but as he contemplated the offer, he knew that even the most broken-spirited slave could still seize their chance at freedom if they were smart enough to spot it. At last, he took his chance and lowered his saber, heartened that she kept her end of the bargain even without his threat at her neck. He nodded his agreement to the terms and stepped aside, intending to test the door. She moved past him and laid a hand on the doorknob, able to confirm that Scarlucci hadn’t locked it. Jeet raised a cautioning finger to his lips just in case, and then let himself in.

As a bounty hunter, he had snuck into bedrooms of unsuspecting targets many times, whether to surprise them with a set of shackles or to go all the way and assassinate them, so this part was old hat to him. He still took it cautiously, particularly with one of the house staff at his back watching from the hallway beyond, holding still to listen and verify that his prey was asleep before moving into the room. His light shoes and caftan made almost no noise as he hastened to search for the keys, checking a desk and a bureau before finding them on the nightstand beside the bed. Getting that close to the target was always nerve-wracking, particularly when the intention wasn’t death, but he kept a hand close to the hilt of his saber just in case. He had no qualms about killing the nobleman if he had to, but their mission would become infinitely more messy if he did. He stretched out his other hand and closed it fully on the ring of keys, fingers delicately wrapping around them one by one to gather them in without the slightest jingle. Just as he began to draw back, Scarlucci grunted and then let out a huge nasal snore; Jeet froze for a heartbeat, and then heaved a quick sigh as he realized it was the best case scenario rather than the worst. He jerked his hand back quickly without so much as a scrape of the metal on the surface of the table and then flew straight across the room to escape through the gap left in the doorway. As he passed he grabbed the woman by the arm and dragged her along, down the hallway a bit to where there was more light, and there he fulfilled his promise to her. He fumbled to pick out the right key and then, with a firm click, the collar fell away from her neck. She didn’t seem to know how to thank him with words, but her eyes lightened and her face took on several emotions all at once. Without a word she grabbed his arm in turn and hastened down the hall, guiding him to the servants’ rear stairwell and pulling him after her. She didn’t even stop to go to her room and gather anything, she simply led Jeet along the easiest and fastest route back to the kitchen entrance where he had broken in. She thrust the door open and then let go of him, and the last he saw of her was the swirl of her hair coming unbound from the bun as she ran off into the darkness.

Once the moon began to sink behind the battlements of the high walls surrounding Altamarin, Abdullah called up a couple of men and sent them into the alley, having already given them their directions and trusting them to carry them out. One carried a bottle of booze, and both paused just before coming abreast of the rear entrance to the slave shop to put on the universal affectation of drunkenness, stumbling and weaving a little. There was a single gang member on guard at the base of the stairs, arms folded around the stock of his rifle, and he zeroed in on them instantly as they staggered into the light. “Hey, there’s one,” one of the pirates said loudly, pointing straight at him. “Oi! You there, you gotta know. Where are all the good cat-houses in this city?”

“Yeah, man,” his comrade put in. “We’re lookin’ for a good time. Can you point us the right way?”

The guard bristled a little at their noise but when he realized they just needed directions, his tension eased and he simply made a face. “What are you, tourists?”

“Nah man. The finest merchant-marine sailors that ever raised a gaff,” the first pirate laughed. “Our ship’s stuck in the port while we wait on some cargo, and we’re bored.”

“We already found the bars but they close so damn early,” the other complained. “So if we can’t get booze, we figured, let’s get women instead! But we dunno where to look.”

The guard shook his head ruefully. “You’re in the wrong direction for that. Go back out to the street here…” He gestured to the one running in front of the building he was watching. “…and then hang a right. That should take you back to the main drag…”

He gave them a few more directions, mentioning that there weren’t a lot of places for anyone to go for anything at this time of night but if they wanted to have even the slightest chance, the establishments they were looking for were back down closer to the harbor, but off to the left in the valley where the oldest houses stood. As he explained he gestured, and the pirates nodded absently as if drunkenly trying to follow, but really, they took advantage of his animated assistance to look over the back of the shop and learn any important details to take back. Once the guard finished, they thanked him profusely and offered him a sip from their bottle, which he turned down with a roll of his eyes. They did exactly as he directed and stumbled their way out to the street and then off, but as soon as they were out of sight they circled back around and came up upon the garden and the rest of their crew from behind. “Looks like most of ‘em are at the back of the shop,” they reported to Abdullah. “One or two lurking around the door, but from the noise and light, the rest are just inside. Top floor is dark. There’s one sentry on the roof and a few more out front, but the majority are in the back.”

“Good work,” Abdullah encouraged, beginning to grin. He checked the time, and then the sky, glad to see the moon finally low enough that the light in the sky was fading to a level of darkness that favored the stealthy. It was definitely time, he had to get started before Jeet joined them. He clustered the pirates around him and leaned on a couple of shoulders to confide in them. “You all know what to do. This is your time, boys. The captain’s counting on you.”

The gang members clustered here and there around the shop heard about the funny drunks who came looking for help, but it didn’t seem to be anything unusual to any of them. More than one muttered about wishing they could cut out for the night and go join them in the hunt, but no, Scarlucci would have their heads if they shirked their duty – and if he didn’t, Cayse would. It made a lively anecdote to brighten up the night and that was it, back to work. None of them heard the approach of a single man, nor the click of a lighter, but the crash of a windowpane breaking definitely caught their attention. They didn’t have to scramble around to find which window it was, for an instant later there was a whoosh and a roar and the upstairs office was on fire. Since it had worked so well down in the harbor town, Abdullah had decided to try it again, this time lobbing a Molotov cocktail into one of the empty, unguarded rooms above the shop. His comrades rued the loss of a perfectly good half-bottle of booze which had served them well, but the sight of the flames leaping up so quickly was well worth the price. The shocking intrusion drew everyone away from their stations, most of those downstairs in the back rooms rushed up to find the source of the fire and try to put it out before it could spread to Scarlucci’s other stock of stolen goods and art. Only one or two men hesitated, lingering in the doorway, the rest ran to deal with the fire. Their defenses were thinned out enough, now, that it was no problem for a pack of pirates to charge them and cut their way through. Abdullah lingered outside below the stairs, looking up and down the alley for any sign of his partner. The sentry on the roof ran to look over and see what the ruckus was all about, but before he could let out a shout, Abdullah drew back an arm and launched one of his tridents like a spear. It lanced through the air and made a wet thud as it pierced the man in the gut, sending him tumbling off the roof. The bounty hunter made a mental note to retrieve it before heading inside, but first, there was one important piece missing in their rescue plan and he needed to hurry up.

Ideo was still having trouble sleeping in his unpleasant position, more awake than not, so when the chaos erupted upstairs and in the back, he heard it instantly and snapped alert. For a moment he tried to figure out exactly what was going on, and then realized it didn’t matter so long as it meant that their rescuers had finally arrived. There was a lot of running and shouting, and after a moment he could smell woodsmoke. Grabbing a hold of the bars above his head, he swung himself around so he was facing his comrade. “Bluegilly! Wake up!”

Bluegilly startled awake at the force of his yell, wobbling before being able to push himself up. “What? What is it?”

“I think our ride’s here,” Ideo retorted.

There was a suddenly loud noise of scuffle and weapons-clash very nearby, and then the curtains around them were ripped away to reveal their crewmates, breathing hard and brandishing their weapons of choice but unharmed. All of them stopped short and stared at the awful sight of their two most powerful comrades and leaders chained and caged like beasts, but they shook it off and moved to put themselves in a ring around the cages. “Just like Abdullah said!” one called out to his fellows, and then glanced over his shoulder at Ideo staring down at him in relief and wonder. “Yo, captain. We’ll have you out of there as soon as Jeet brings the keys.”

“You guys…” Ideo stared incredulously at them, for even if he was expecting them he almost couldn’t believe his eyes, that their newbies were getting the job done and all working together so perfectly, following whatever directions given them by the bounty hunters to set up for the next step in the plan. Bluegilly laughed brightly at the welcome intrusion, sagging against the bars for a moment. The crew had them safely surrounded and served as a barrier between them and their captors for the time being, and just in time as two thugs burst through the front door to confront the people they had seen congregating inside. A short but intense fight broke out, and though captain and vice-captain wanted desperately to jump in and join them, they had to sit tight for just a bit longer and wait to be free. Their men handled it, but not without taking damage themselves. As blood dripped on the floor, the captive pair strained against their chains, wishing they could share the burden and looking toward the corridor or the door in expectation of their hope arriving.

They didn’t have long to wait. No sooner had both gangsters hit the floor and Abdullah jogged in from the back room, tridents brandished and already bloodied, with Jeet right behind him, one saber in one hand and the key ring lofted victoriously in the other. He gauged the state of affairs instantly and didn’t even say anything before moving into action, springing up on top of one cage and jamming the blade of his saber between his teeth in order to free both hands to work the keys. Rather than waste time opening the doors, he concentrated on unlocking the seastone cuffs around Ideo’s wrists since they were easy to reach from the top. Abdullah placed his back to the cages, facing the hallway leading to the back, but glanced over his shoulder as he heard the ring of metal falling away and Ideo’s triumphant laugh. “You’re gonna have to help in your own rescue,” he warned. “We’re short on time, here.”

Jeet was already moving on to Bluegilly, leaping down and rushing to the front of his cage to reach through the bars and free his ankles and legs. “No sweat,” Ideo grunted, rubbing his wrists and then flexing his fingers to make sure everything still worked. He was a little stiff, but nothing that would stop him now. The muscles in his arms flexed and bulged as he grabbed a hold of the bars on the cage door, braced himself, and then hauled back with all his strength. The weak iron groaned and then burst as he ripped the door straight off its hinges. He slid out and landed neatly on the floor, his legs still shackled but not enough to prevent him from getting around. That felt good, it got his blood and adrenaline pumping, so he moved to the other side and gripped the bars, tearing them aside with a roar. Bluegilly assisted with a well-timed kick, widening the gap so he could slither through and finally stand up at his full height. Ideo banged his fists together and put himself into a boxing stance. “Almost there,” he encouraged his comrades. “Hang on for one more minute!”

“Hurry!” Bluegilly insisted as Jeet ran around to their side of the cages. “Forget the cuffs, get the collars! They’ll use them to kill us if they find out we’re trying to escape…”

At that instant, Cayse came rushing in ahead of a cluster of his men, all of them looking a bit scuffed up from fighting the fire upstairs but furious that it had all been a distraction to allow someone to get in and set the slaves free. “Stop them!” he bellowed, bringing his rifle to bear. “Don’t let any of them leave here alive!”

Jeet startled and then fell to it, picking out a different key he figured probably unlocked the explosive collars even as Bluegilly leaned down to let him. Abdullah wasted no time and charged, meeting Cayse halfway with a mighty clash of weapons that successfully stopped him in his tracks. The rest of their crew broke formation and spread out into a line instead, placing themselves as a wall between the thugs and their captains and bracing to meet the attack, refusing to let any of their enemies get past them and get anywhere near those collars. Abdullah focused on holding off the leader, knowing they needed but one more minute to render the collars no longer a threat, swinging and clashing with both tridents. Bluegilly abruptly let out a _kiai_ , the only warning anyone got before he plowed foot-first through a gap in the line and slammed two thugs into the wall behind them, free at last to fight to his full potential. Ideo was next, collar first, then ankles, and barely breathed his thanks before turning and entering the fray, leaping straight up to springboard off Abdullah’s shoulder and punch down from above at the man he tangled with. Cayse flew back down the hall several feet before righting himself, wiping blood from his mouth on the back of his hand. “I’ve been wanting to do that for days,” Ideo said with savage glee, landing on the floor in front of his crewmate. “Thanks, Abdullah, but this one’s mine.”

“I want a piece of him, too!” Bluegilly crowed, sliding in from the side and catching an underling flush in the gut with a powerful leg-whip that sent him crashing into one of the wall-cages.

Eyeing both of them, Cayse straightened up and advanced more cautiously, drawing a knife instead of another gun, though he had the presence of mind to call out to his men. “Somebody get one of the gas-cannons! We don’t have time for this, bring them down fast!”

All of the Triple-X members glanced among each other, as by now the tale of how their powerful captains had been subdued was known to all. “Whatever you do,” Ideo warned his men, “don’t let them fire that thing in here! None of us will get out of they do.”

The collective lot of them let out a loud, angry “Right!” in response, brandishing their weapons and staring down their foes. Ideo looked them up and down the line and felt a swell of pride in his chest. Far from the usual over-confident braggadocio of pirates, they were grim and dangerous, dedicated to protecting each other to the very end. Undaunted, the gang members bum-rushed them again in two clusters while their leader aimed for Ideo, showing no sign of being at all intimidated by him with arms free and fists balled up. Ideo, in turn, drew his lower elbows in close, his upper elbows straight back and high up, mimicking his usual boxing stance but without the help of his jacket to power up his hits. He ducked the first swing of the long knife in his tormentor’s right hand and snapped a couple of hard body blows into his gut, then gave him a roundhouse to fling him into Bluegilly. The Longleg caught him behind one knee and immediately twisted to flip him in mid-air and slam him to the floor with a leg-trap. He didn’t stop there, kicking Cayse several times in the side and then using his foot to shovel him back at his partner. Ideo was eagerly waiting for this, right fist drawn back, and threw his hardest possible punch straight into the man’s jaw, feeling it break under his knuckles. Like his underling Cayse soared across the shop and slammed into the bars of one of the cages, denting them from the force, and flopped to the floor like a broken toy. At that moment one of their crewmates cried out in alarm, and Jeet pointed with one saber to what he had seen: one of the gang running in from the back room with what looked like a bazooka on his shoulder. The thugs fought fiercely, even moreso now that their leader was down, and no one scattered this time in preface to the gas being shot into the room. If they had to take a nap as a price for bringing down their escaped slaves and their rescuers, so be it. Before they could leap to stop it, Ideo and Bluegilly found themselves freshly beset by more of the gang, many who had learned from the scuffle in the prison that the only way to slow down such dangerous fighters was to pile on them and hook onto their famed limbs. The underling with the bazooka braced himself, bringing it up to fire, but hesitated upon seeing Cayse in a bloody heap behind the pirates. No one from Ideo’s Pirates was going to allow him to take his shot. Abdullah threw off his attackers and turned to try to get there first, but one of his lesser mates beat him to it, running up and tackling the guy before he could fire. They tangled in the darkened hallway while the rest of the crew turned to smacking down every last thug in the shop, weaving in and out among each other so that no one would get trapped or caught from behind. In their midst Bluegilly and Ideo fought with every ounce of strength they still had left to them, no longer afraid of having their heads blown off and free to use every technique in their arsenals. They weren’t terribly weakened by their ordeal, though their limbs felt heavy and tingled after some of their harder hits. They seemed unable to step too far apart from each other, though it turned their battle into a tandem fight as they deflected gang members toward one another in the chaos.

In short order they found all of their men backing to join them, as the melee coalesced back into the same line formation from which they had started. Jeet and Abdullah were now on either end, playing the role of clean-up, and their comrade who had gone to stop the knockout gas from being used raced up with the bazooka lofted in one hand – he had wrested it from its owner and now had control. At that, the pirates cheered and then looked around, finding that they had more or less cleared the decks. Everyone was down, though more than half were still conscious and capable of getting back up given time. Ideo waved an arm to beckon all of them to use their chance and break out, turning to lead the way. He crashed through the door left unlocked by the outside sentries earlier and barreled straight into the rest of Scarlucci’s men regrouping outside. Most of them had fled the burning building out of prudence, but hadn’t realized the magnitude of the fight going on inside. They bristled and readied to fight back, but by that time the two captains were already among them, punching and kicking with a particular prejudice. The rest of their crew piled out of the shop, and at the very tail end, the one with the bazooka turned and raised it with the intention to fire it back into the building. Jeet grabbed him before he could and pointed – it wasn’t just slave hunters gathering on the street, the city’s fire and police forces were starting to converge on the scene, aware only that a fire had broken out and keen to extinguish it before it spread to the other shops up and down the street. As the pirates threw down the last of the thugs, they looked to see what was coming, and Bluegilly let out a frustrated snarl at the sight of white Marine uniforms among them. Abdullah raced past him, then, lofting a trident to serve as a signal to their guys. “This way! Follow me!” he called out, and the others folded in behind him. Only the last man remained, taking Jeet’s advice and shooting the gas canister into the growing crowd of law enforcement. They had no idea what to expect, and were entirely unprepared for the explosion and ensuing cloud of choking knockout gas that enveloped them within moments.

It was up to the pair of ex-bounty hunters to get their fellows to disappear into the night, and even with most of the police and Marines laid low by the gas, there were still enough on their feet to put up a good chase. The noise of the Triple-X crew’s passage seemed too loud in the otherwise sleepy, empty streets of Altamarin, but they had every need for speed over stealth and outpaced their pursuers in due order, turning down enough corners and putting enough buildings between them and their foes that eventually no one could track them. At that point Abdullah signaled with his trident that they could slow down. He had been leading them more or less in the direction of a safe place he and Jeet had scoped out earlier, and made another turn to bring them right under the shadow of the city walls. There, a neighborhood consisting solely of storehouses clustered at the feet of Altamarin’s high walls, though it took a bit more work to find the specific one Jeet had considered their best bet for breaking into and using to hide from pursuit. The chaos they left behind them had the added benefit of drawing away any patrols to deal with the trouble, they saw no one at all in this area and the crash of Bluegilly kicking a hole in a door went completely unnoticed. While Jeet did his best to conceal any evidence of their presence just in case, the rest sprawled out on the floor or on piles of storage crates, heaving happy sighs now that they could rest and the majority of the ordeal was over and done. Ideo sat with his arms draped across his lap, feeling all his little aches and pains now that the adrenaline was wearing off, when one of his crewmates appeared in front of him, black cloth dangling from his hand. He looked up and met a knowing smirk. “Here you go, cap…Ideo. You dropped this.”

Ideo’s eyes widened as he reached to take it. “My jacket…”

“Figured you’d need that – you know, in case we need a Destruction Cannon to get us out of here,” the man chuckled.

He hadn’t even thought about it, but his crewmate was right, and as he slipped it on and pushed his upper arm segment into the shoulders, Ideo felt like everything was finally back to normal. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it until he had it back, so much so that he was perfectly willing to sleep in that position rather than leave his arms at full length. “Thanks,” he said humbly, looking up again to give the man a sincere look. “I mean it, it feels so good to have it.”

As they unwound there in a cluster, one brought out a satchel and dumped out a load of food – bread, fruit, and a couple wrapped packages of sausages and cheese – as well as a roll of bandages and a canteen of water. Most of the group cheered the appearance of supplies, but they held back from reaching to grab anything, turning instead to Bluegilly and Ideo where they sat side by side. “You first,” Abdullah encouraged. “You guys must be starving.”

“Not too bad,” Bluegilly demurred, “but even so.” He reached to grab as much as his hands would hold, and Ideo followed suit. The others fell upon the feast afterward, though Jeet went for the bandages and started wrapping up a couple of the guys who had taken the worst hits in the fight. “Man, you thought of everything.”

“We had time to kill,” Jeet shrugged. “Figured it was better to cover all our bases just in case. You guys didn’t look too beat up and wasted but you never know.”

“Where’d you get all this?” Ideo wondered.

“Here and there,” one of the crew said, prompting the others on either side of him to giggle. “I mean, we didn’t exactly go back to the ship and pack a bunch of supplies before setting out. So…”

“You’re learning how to be real pirates,” Bluegilly grinned as he munched on an apple. “Nice.”

“No one’ll miss them,” another said with a dismissive wave. “This city is full of rich folks who throw away nicer things than what we scrounged up.”

“Eat up, and then get some sleep,” Abdullah broke in, waving off Jeet’s attempt at patching a cut on his forehead. “We’ve only got a few hours till dawn, and nowhere to go until then, so rest up in case we need to make another ruckus in the morning.”

Ideo raised a finger. “First. I wanna know how you guys caught up and found us. Rest can wait, plans can wait. Tell me how you knew, how you came for us.”

Some of them shared looks, almost prompting each other to go first, so Abdullah spoke up for all of them. “When you didn’t come back by sunset, we split up into search parties to look for you. Just before we got started, these two came back all beaten up and told us about the attack.” He tipped his head toward the two from the scouting party, one of whom still had his arm bound up from the bullet wound. “They had no idea what happened to you two, but since you hadn’t come back either, everybody guessed that you’d been captured. It took some work to track down the assholes who kidnapped you, but when we figured it out we set out right away on the hunt.” He gestured to the one who had joked about their food theft. “Probably would’ve been smarter to go back and get supplies, but we’d already lost several hours just investigating and didn’t want to fall even further behind.”

“That, and we didn’t realize how long a hike it would be,” one of the crew said wryly.

“We still hustled as fast as we could,” Abdullah went on, “but we hiked all through the night and the next day, and got to the city after the gates had closed for the night. We had to camp out in the fields and then work out some way of sneaking in, and that took us a while. That was the first day they had you out, and the whole place was abuzz with news that some slave shop had a Longarm and a Longleg on display so finding out where you were wasn’t hard at all.”

“I didn’t even have to interrogate anyone,” Jeet complained. “It was no fun at all, but at least we got that part down quickly.”

“The easy part was finding disguises and waiting to get in to see you,” Abdullah explained. “Then we had to check out the whole city to get the lowdown on what kind of trouble we were in for, hunt down some informants, steal some food, and hole up for the night. I don’t know what you guys know of this city, but there’s another harbor down below the cliffs, and there were a few places we could blend in and not stick out as pirates. But, there’s a Marine outpost down there in the harbor, too, and they looked pretty sharp.”

“But how did you get in through the gates?” Bluegilly pressed. “The assholes who got us had to show some kind of identification to get through.”

“Oh, there was a lot of bullshit,” Jeet admitted. “We hung back to watch when the gates opened first thing in the morning, and then had to find some way to sneak a bunch of ruffians in. It took a lot of smooth-talking to convince the guards that we were from one of the farms outside the city and had business to do.”

“He was in top form,” one of the crew explained. “He ran interference while the rest of us mingled with the crowd, slipped past while he distracted them. We just let him go, couldn’t get a word in edgewise anyway. When we regrouped inside, lo and behold there he was with us. Somehow he got them to give in and let him pass without ID.”

“I think they just didn’t want to deal with him anymore,” another chuckled.

“If you can’t outfox them, just wear them down,” the bounty hunter said with a wink.

“So once you made contact, you came up with that disguise idea to get in again and try to find out more,” Ideo concluded.

Abdullah nodded. “The info you gave us was all we needed to put the pieces together. The rest was just waiting until nightfall and refining the plan, and then getting in and out as fast as we could. Sorry we had to make you work for it, but we needed all hands to make it happen, even yours.”

Ideo looked to Jeet. “You got the keys from Scarlucci. Did you kill him?”

The bounty hunter shook his head. “Sadly, no. And you’re not the first person to ask me to go that far. There wasn’t time, I just looted him and got the hell out of there.” 

“Damn.” Ideo punched one fist against the floor. “That asshole needs to pay. I don’t want to just shut him down, I want him dead.”

Abdullah peered at him over his glasses. “Killing one world noble won’t stop the slave trade. It won’t even slow it down.”

“It’s not about stopping the slave trade,” Ideo countered. “I know vengeance is selfish but I don’t care. After what we went through, I want to see all of them suffer the way we did.” His brown eyes went straight across the ring to Abdullah. “You remember what it was like. In the underground port.”

The bounty hunter’s expression stilled, and even Jeet sobered. “Was it like that, then?”

“Worse,” Bluegilly answered, holding his chin up even though he was aware of the entire crew staring at them, unsure whether to pity or fear them. “The despair was the same, thinking we’d never get out of it, never be seen again. At least that time, everybody ignored us. Here, we were the big show. I’ve never heard so many people make smartass remarks about my legs in my entire life – and the ones who kept talking about us being sold for millions like that was something to be _proud_ of.” He flinched and looked away, gritting his teeth angrily. “I’m not satisfied, I want to beat them all senseless.”

Jeet bowed his head slightly. “I feel you, but unfortunately, I don’t think that’s the smart thing to do. This whole damn city will be on the hunt for the two of you, trying to get anywhere in it will be impossible.”

“He’s right,” one of the others said seriously. “It’s not safe. We just got you guys back, we don’t want to lose you to them again.”

Ideo’s gaze swept across the collection of crewmen all wearing earnest expressions, and he had to sigh to himself in resignation. They were right, and moreover, he couldn’t risk their freedom just for the sake of his own thirst for revenge. He dragged a hand down his face and then rested his chin on his fist. “Then, we’ll focus on getting out of here and getting back to the ship,” he decided. “There’s no way to make any kind of dent in the slave trade, even if I were feeling particularly altruistic. We have to consider our own freedom, we haven’t quite escaped yet.”

Abdullah nodded, heartened to see him come to his senses. “We’re stuck in the city until daybreak,” he reported. “The gates are locked at night, we discovered. The plan is to rush the same gate where we all came in while the guard shifts are changing right after they open up, and hope they haven’t tightened security there thanks to our little incident. They’ve seen all of us now, so there’s no use trying to sneak or use distractions anymore. I feel like they’re gonna come down hard as soon as we try to leave, so every minute counts in the morning.”

“In the worst case, there are other gates out of the city,” Jeet mused, “one to the north past the red light district, and the big stair down to the harbor at the bottom of the cliff. If it comes to that we can steal one of the nobles’ ritzy yachts to get out to sea and circle around, but that puts us directly up against the Marines.”

Bluegilly made a face. “That must be where they were preparing the cargo ship to take us to Mariejois.”

A ripple of apprehension went through the crew, as they all considered what those words meant. The full impact of their captains’ abduction hit them then, leaving them quietly stunned as they finished munching on whatever they had taken to eat. Abdullah brushed off his hands and made to get up, in order to go keep watch at the door of the storehouse. “Like I said, we’ve got a few short hours till dawn, and then we can bust out. Make the most of ‘em, get some sleep.”

“Oi.” Before he could go too far, Ideo spoke up in a low, solemn tone. He dropped his head and his gaze humbly. “All of you. Thank you. You risked your lives for us, we were helpless in there and you came for us. You could have ended up in there with us, lost everything, but you still did all of that for us. I won’t ever forget it.”

Some of the crew relaxed and flashed him relieved smiles. “It’s what pirates do, isn’t it?” one said proudly.

One got up to assist with keeping watch, while the rest stretched themselves out wherever they were, on top of crates or on the floor. Bluegilly made a great show of stretching his arms and legs out in all directions, reveling in finally being able to, and then briefly grabbed Ideo in the crook of his arm to give him a reassuring touch before sprawling out on the floor to sleep. The captain smiled at him, and then rolled over to pillow his head on his arm folded inside his sleeve. The handful of hours they had left trapped in the city would fly by as he succumbed to exhaustion, though he already felt the reality of freedom and had no worries that they would escape Altamarin. Getting out the gates seemed like a mere formality.

  


Dawn’s golden light crested the eastern rim of the city walls and gleamed down into the protected hollow that was Altamarin, reaching long fingers between the jungle of buildings tall and small and even making it as far as the plainsward gate. The knots of city guards and Marines squinted into the morning sun, most of them still groggy from being turned out earlier than usual and without a cup of tea or coffee to get them started. All they knew was that Scarlucci Imports had been raided in the night and valuables taken away, and there was a blanket order for all law enforcement to converge on all gates, canals, and any other means of egress from the city to prevent the thieves from getting away clean. The Marines knew the least, only that one of the nobles was laying claim to millions of beli worth of merchandise missing and their job was to recover it, lest Mariejois hear of it. The rumors of pirates being responsible was also a perfectly good reason for the resident vice-admiral to turn out his forces, though they were primarily massed at the harbor to investigate any strange ships. Smaller units had been sent to reinforce the city guard at the other gates, like these now murmuring amongst themselves and shading their eyes to look up the road toward the city center just in case people might be coming from that direction. It was early, the gates had only just opened and few travelers would have need to approach the checkpoint to leave or arrive already, but still they had to keep an eye out. Then, one broke off mid-comment to his compatriot, seeing an odd silhouette backlit by the dawn – one man, alone, but with strangely-shaped shoulders that reached above his head, striding confidently toward them. The peculiarity of his build drew their attention, but no one presently stationed at the gate had the information necessary to connect him to the escaped Longarm, and so they hesitated for a precious moment. That moment would cost them dearly.

The restrained clip of flat-soled shoes on the paved street came to a stop, and the approaching figure dropped into a defensive stance with one fist drawn back. Some of the guards and police broke from their small groups and spread out to get a better look, the Marines pulled their rifles off their shoulders, and someone called out a demand for identification. The man said nothing and simply waited, wound up and ready to fight. Since he didn’t seem to be cooperating, the primary guards on duty came forward, shouting orders, which went stoically ignored. Backup streamed in behind them, even some of the Marines, and that was when Ideo struck. The punch landed on the foremost guard who had reached him, but the Destruction Cannon exploded and engulfed everyone within range, sending them flying in all directions. The Marines bristled and called out to one another, firing as soon as their guns were raised, but their attacker vanished in the smoke and then was suddenly upon them, plunging through the haze and raining blows on anything with a uniform in his way. The explosion was his crew’s signal, they erupted from the lanes to the left and right of the main road and converged on the fight in an instant, flanking their captain with Bluegilly immediately to his partner’s right. At first it seemed like this wouldn’t be a lengthy delay, there were about as many guards and Marines facing them as there had been thugs last night, but then even more came streaming through the tunnel from the far end of the gate to reinforce those on the inner end. Ideo and Bluegilly shared a look and a nod and then charged straight in, unleashing their full strength on anyone who would stop them from leaving the city as free men. Jeet and Abdullah were at either end of their crew’s forward line, urging their men in and hooting with enthusiasm. The rest of the Ideo Pirates yelled out a battle cry and came on hard and fast, slamming into the guards, throwing the city patrol aside, and wresting guns from the Marines before turning them back on their owners. It was a mess, made worse by the extra troops coming up through the tunnel, at which point Ideo turned to his crew and bellowed an order above the din. “Forget these small fries and get to the gate! Don’t let them barricade it against us! We’ll make our stand there!”

One great cry answered him from his crew, and with Bluegilly leading the way with a few good leg sweeps, they made a gap in the cluster of law enforcement and charged through into the tunnel. The commotion at the inner end did not go unnoticed, word was being sent to headquarters as well as the Marine post and soon, all of the city’s personnel plus some would be swarming on them. A difficult fight was nothing to fear, but Ideo was not going to allow his crew to get trapped just a few meters from freedom. If they were going to fight their way out, he would rather have them fight with the expectation that “out” was right there and the only way to fail was to die. He raced ahead of them until they came within sight of the gate and the dozens of guards blocking their access to it. It had already been closed against their assault, the bright square of daylight beyond barred by the iron portcullis, but compared to seastone cuffs and exploding collars, it seemed like nothing. Skidding to a halt, he drew back his arm and unleashed another Destruction Cannon at the obstacle, felling half the soldiers and throwing the rest back against the gate. Bluegilly leaned down to speak with him, resting a shoulder against his to back him up just in case their foes were quick to get up. “Great idea, but now we’re going to be caught between two armies,” he warned. “They’re coming up fast behind.”

“I figured they would,” Ideo grunted. “I know it’s reckless but it’s faster this way. It’s a bottleneck. Only so many of their forces can get in here all at the same time, and we’re within sight of the goal.”

Looking back and then forward again, the vice-captain had to agree. It wasn’t as though they wouldn’t have been pincered just the same inside the city, pinned between a stalwart gate guard and the Marine forces coming up through the city behind. Raising his voice, he commanded their crew, “Watch our backs! Keep ‘em from getting too close while we get the gate open, and then we’re outta here!”

“You got it!” Abdullah called from the rear of the pack, turning and fixing a deadly grin on the guards racing up behind them. Several faltered just from the look of him, but there were more behind them demanding that they keep going forward, the press of bodies carrying them all straight up onto the brandished weapons of the pirates. 

All but one of the rookie crewmen placed themselves as a defending wall and filled the stone-walled tunnel with the screams of their enemies; the one who had been shot at the onset of this entire mess sidled up alongside Ideo. “Captain! Want me to find the gate controls? They have to be nearby…”

“It’ll take too long,” Ideo demurred, idly punching an eager guard out of his way. “And I’m not losing anybody in this mess. Leave it to Bluegilly – as soon as he takes it out, get the others out of here. I’m gonna finish this.”

It was a somewhat ominous command, but after the fight to get free last night, no one in the crew had any fear that Ideo would sacrifice himself for the rest of them. They were all getting out of here, he just had some kind of trick up his sleeve. Nodding, the man put his back to his captain and fought with him, though he kept an eye on the Longleg rushing the gate one more time. The guards still capable of picking themselves up had put themselves into a tight knot right in the center, ready to receive him, but they had no idea what was about to hit them. The ceiling was just high enough for Bluegilly to spring, tuck and roll, and then the cry of “Shooting Moon!” echoed from the stones. Kicks rained down on them, splitting their tightly-poised defense and scattering it aside in all directions. He landed right where they had tried to make their stand and then swept his heel hard in from one side, bashing it against the portcullis at a junction of vertical and horizontal slats. It wasn’t seastone, just regular steel, but strong enough that it took quite a number of kicks to make any kind of dent in it. While he worked on that, the rest of the crew formed into a semi-circle and fought back against the swell of troops choking the tunnel behind, Ideo shouldered up right alongside them and pulling his weight as much as anyone. His comrade did his best with one weak arm, mostly grabbing the guards Bluegilly had kicked aside and flinging them bodily into their own fellows before arming himself with their discarded pistols and rifles and having a great time peppering the front line of the crush. The glorious pincer move had turned on them, instead of closing the jaws on their prey they were instead being forced to stand there and take it as the pirate crew had its way with them. One big Marine got through and swung punches left and right, his hands protected by gleaming steel gauntlets. He knocked down two of the Triple-X boys, but Ideo leaped into the gap and met him head-on, punch for punch and knuckles against knuckles.

The Marine barked a laugh, seeing what he was up against. “Destruction Cannon Ideo!” he crowed. “I’ve heard of you! This must be my lucky day!”

Ideo’s grin was savage. “More like unlucky!” he taunted, giving him a one-two of a pair of signature punches that deafened everyone around them with the explosion. He stood toe to toe with his enemy and fended him off, preventing him from picking off any more of their crew and buying Bluegilly the time needed to break down the gate. The fight around him was intense, far more fraught and challenging than anything else on this island so far, and bloodier for that matter, but at least both sides were taking hits and damage. The captain focused on overpowering this strongest opponent, denting his gauntlets with more explosive punches and then ducking in under his reach to hammer him with a sequence of body blows that finally toppled him. More Marines leaped over him as he fell, though, eager to avenge their lieutenant and be the ones to claim glory against this ragtag pirate crew.

“Got it!” Bluegilly suddenly yelled behind them, as one more crash signaled that he’d kicked one of the slats clean off the gate. With one more whoop he sprang and slammed both feet into the next steel bar over, bending it completely in half. Even Abdullah, the largest person in their crew, could slither through the gap now. As ordered, the injured crewman grabbed the back of his fellows’ jackets and shirts and dragged them away from the fight, exhorting them to get out while the getting was good. The vice-captain stood guard at the hole he’d made, waving everyone through one by one until all that was left was the four core members. Abdullah wriggled his way through the gap, sucking in his stomach as best he could, and then Jeet flew through after him. “Ideo!”

Their captain glanced back, glad to see that everyone had made it safely out, and grinned to assure Bluegilly that he had this under control. Guards and Marines began to surround him, but he simply fell back one step and changed his aim, lifting his head to look up at the ceiling of the tunnel. “Wanna give me a hand, here?”

As dangerous as it was for the two of them to remain behind, Bluegilly understood and ran to his side, vaulting into a handspring as he did. His kick flew straight upward at the same time as Ideo launched a Destruction Punch at the ceiling, and the combination of the two powerful blows shattered the stone to an unknown depth. They both rolled out of it and then ran for the gate while the military might of Altamarin shrank back, screaming contradictory orders at one another. No one could be sure whether the stones raining down on their heads were just the surface treatment of the tunnel or if the whole thing was going to collapse on top of them, so to be safe, they began to flee back out of the tunnel, but there were so many of their own reinforcements behind them that running became nearly impossible. They were in trouble, and their prey had gotten away.

The Triple-X crew held back at a short distance from the wall until captain and vice-captain hurtled through the gap in the gate and caught up with them, at which point all of them took to their heels and ran, blowing past one startled farmer on a wagon but otherwise completely in the clear. Guards high on the top of the walls could spot them and were yelling down alerts to anyone below who could follow up, but thanks to the final blow dealt to the tunnel itself, it would be far too long before anyone could actually respond to their calls. All the pirates could do was run to the limit of their speed and strength to put as much distance between them and Altamarin before an actual pursuit was successfully launched. Thanks to the plains and the open road, they would be observed for a long way by the towers on top of the wall, so there would be no such thing as hiding and waiting for it all to blow over. Most of them were bruised and bloodied now, but they pressed on without complaint, riding high on a wave of adrenaline fed by their victory. It seemed incredible that they had gotten through two grand fights as well as the dangerous subterfuge and succeeded, but they had, and no one would be taken to Mariejois as a slave now. The sun rose high in a bright blue sky, a fresh wind blew in their faces, everything was going right. Jeet warned them not to get too excited since they would definitely be hunted down eventually, but even he couldn’t resist a yelp of a laugh now and again.

Abdullah slowed well before any of the others, though even he had enough stamina to keep up for quite a few kilometers before showing any sign of flagging. He glanced over his shoulder now and then, and when he started to drop back out of sheer fatigue, he waved to the others to encourage them to slow down and take a breather. They could still see Altamarin’s walls, but so far there was no sign of anything resembling pursuit, and they were already far enough out that even if someone had just exited the gate they wouldn’t be able to spot anything moving on the road at a distance. There was a bridge of sorts over a small stream just ahead, they paused there and let everyone go down to drink and splash cold water on their wounds to clean them. A few needed real bandages after that kind of fight, so they broke out what was left of their supplies and fell to taking care of one another on the spot, wrapping each other up with the kind of purposeful swiftness typical to tournament fighters – no injury would keep them out of a fight, and so it was here. Tallest among them, Bluegilly stood in the middle of the road looking back toward Altamarin, hoping he could strain his eyes and see if there was anything coming yet, though this far away even haki would be useless. “Shit,” one of the crewmen complained while Jeet tied off a bandage over a particularly nasty laceration, “that was a tight spot. What happened to ‘it’s early, there shouldn’t be that many people around?’”

“They got ahead of us,” Abdullah admitted gruffly. “I warned you they might. Just goes to show, they’ll do anything to protect some nobleman even if he’s a damn dirty kidnapper.”

“It’s not over yet,” Ideo warned. “They’re not gonna just let us get off this island. We’ve got a long way to go to get back to our ship and they’ll be on us before you know it.”

One of the rookies slumped where he sat on the edge of the embankment. “It took us a night and a day to get there on foot, now we have to slog all that way back?”

Bluegilly swung a foot and booted him squarely in the ass. “Suck it up, it’s not like any of us are gonna have it any easier. We’re all in this together, and we’re all good and trashed now, so this is no time for you to wimp out on us.”

The man rubbed his backside and squinted up at him; he didn’t look at all injured, but Ideo had a deep, raking cut down his chest from the Marine’s gauntlet, and both of them were standing in plain sight on the road, guarding their crew while they took care of their hurts. “And what if they catch up to us?” the crewman worried.

“We’ll handle that as it comes,” Ideo assured. “First thing’s first, we get back to the harbor. I don’t care if it takes us all day and all night again, that’s the plan and that’s what we do.” He swept his gaze across the men clustered on either side of the stream, looking up at him expectantly, and took a deep breath that heaved his chest. “I never said it would be a picnic. This is the real pirate life, guys. We’re all tired, hungry, out of breath, and ripped up, and it’s not gonna get any better until we reach the ship. Either we keep going forward, or we lay down here to die. Your choice.”

One man huffed and drew himself up, standing proudly on the riverbank. “We didn’t come all this way and risk our lives just to quit here. C’mon, I don’t feel like waiting around to see if those assholes can catch up to us.”

One by one their crewmates hauled themselves back to their feet and trudged back up onto the road, but one or two grumbled enough that Bluegilly raised a foot and kicked them literally into action. “If the worst you can say is that you’re hungry, then you’ve got it better than we had it in there,” he snapped. “We didn’t spend two days locked in seastone for you to whine about food!”

The stragglers had the decency to look aghast at daring to compare their discomfort to their captains’ plight and sheepishly pulled themselves together, trotting off with the rest of the pack. Ideo paused to give his vice-captain a curious look. “Somebody piss you off?”

“Just making sure they stay on their toes,” the Longleg assured. He didn’t seem angry, merely determined. 

The captain accepted it with a nod and started off to take the lead, setting a pace that was not too fast but also not a leisurely amble. Jeet gestured for Bluegilly to fall in with him. “You two shouldn’t be at the rear,” he advised. “Leave that to me and Abdullah.”

Glancing back at the omnipresent walls beyond them, Bluegilly understood and jogged to catch up. Even if the entirety of the crew was now under threat of arrest, he and Ideo were still the primary targets, and would be until they were off this island. At least the others were in complete support of them, and it looked like even the complainers were more interested in challenging each other to keep up with their fierce captain than in being left behind. Tapping their weapons against each other in agreement, Jeet and Abdullah took up the rear, guarding their retreat the entire way.

Ideo had not lied to his crew, the return trip was painful and difficult, but they endured it together. They were lucky in that the pursuit force turned out from Altamarin was never able to actually overtake them, for even if the pirates were flagging in strength and hamstrung by injury, their hunters were also on foot and got a late enough start that no matter how much they ran, they could not make up the distance. The chase was on, though, the empty plains around them made it possible to see it a long way off, so Ideo kept his men going, alternating between short dashes along the downhill slopes and a steady fast-walk the rest of the way. He sweated and panted just like the rest of them, reassuring them that he wasn’t some kind of super-human monster, but it was something else entirely that had them keeping pace with him no matter how worn out they became. They didn’t need to be driven by any of the officers, they drove themselves onward. Thanks to that, they reached the harbor town by sunset and emerged from the cleft in the rocky cliffs above the town to find it still smoking from the raging fire which had finally snuffed itself out naturally. The sun glared red through the haze as it sank toward the rim of the sea, which lay like a miracle sight before them even if the two captains were surprised by the state of the town. “What happened here?” Bluegilly wondered as they came around the bend in the road past the prison and beheld the extent of the destruction.

“Ah…Jeet happened here,” someone answered. “He set the town on fire to flush out an ambush.”

Ideo shot the two bounty hunters at the back of the pack a bemused look. “Talk about overkill.”

Jeet either didn’t hear him or didn’t care, he walked with a hand shading his eyes to gaze into the sun. “Look at that! I told you it would burn itself out before it reached the ships.”

“That’s right, you did,” Abdullah sighed. “I owe you fifty beli.”

There was no sign of life anywhere in this area, if the gang members left behind were still around they weren’t anywhere near the prison or the smoking remnants of demolished buildings. The fire had done its work well, most of the town on the upper slopes had burned to the ground and another third of the buildings just below were heavily damaged, but it stopped just a couple of blocks before the harbor on the southward end, a little further up to the north. It was enough that though the façades immediately facing the water were intact, anyone sailing close would be able to see that some kind of disaster had befallen the town. Moreover, as far as Ideo and his crew were concerned, the slave hunters would not be able to use it as a base of operations for some time to come. They would never be able to rebuild the whole thing, it would not serve as a temptation for ships needing to land the way it had up until this day. Mindful of the forces still doggedly following behind them, they picked up the pace and ran down the main road through the town, no longer worried about whether any of the slave hunters left behind were still around somewhere. No obstacle ahead of them would stand in their way, and once they came down the hill far enough to glimpse the two ships diligently waiting at the pier, the entirety of the Triple-X crew let out a cheer – their ship was perfectly fine! They were almost there, and all pain and fatigue fell away as they spotted the literal light at the end of the tunnel. It wasn’t until they emerged from between the still-standing buildings at the edge of the wharf neighborhood that they saw that not all was quite perfect. The handful of gang members left behind to guard the town and prevent pursuit – the ones who hadn’t been killed by Abdullah and Jeet’s attack – were in the process of stripping the pirate ship of her supplies, it looked as though they had only just begun earlier that evening. Much of the cargo including all the food and supplies just secured at Homon was stacked neatly along the pier beside the ship, while a couple of people could be seen coming and going on the ramp carrying smaller crates and barrels of powder and ammunition for the cannons. As one the pirates bristled at the audacity that anyone should dare to raid them, particularly when they were so looking forward to a hot meal and a shower onboard that ship, and when Ideo broke into a sprint, they were right with him. “Don’t let these assholes take another single thing from us!” he ordered in a harsh snarl. “Take it all back, boys!”

The remnants of the slave hunting gang had been led all along by the man who had led the initial ambush and assault on Ideo and Bluegilly, though he had subsequently been knocked out by Abdullah in their second attack and therefore hadn’t been part of their interrogation. He was still heavily bandaged from multiple injuries in successive fights, but capable of stomping around and giving orders just fine. He heard a shout and turned to see the entirety of the missing crew barreling towards him, and for a moment he panicked, caught between an unexpected foe and the lure of raided cargo. A second too late he screamed for his men to drop what they were doing and come to fight, but a couple on the pier broke and fled without a word, terrified of what might befall them if they dared to stand up to these pirates a second time. The rest came up to see what their leader was flailing about, but hadn’t even gotten weapons drawn when the pirate crew was on them, hurtling up the ramp and lighting into them with insatiable fury. It was insult on top of one too many injuries, even had they not been ordered to, they would not let this stand. The gang leader dodged to the side and groped for his guns, but then Ideo was there, and for a heartbeat’s pause they glared at each other before the Longarm captain struck. One explosive punch sent the thug flying away from the ship’s supplies, skidding across the stone pier, and a moment later Ideo landed on top of him, one arm extended to its full reach to grab a hold of the man’s shirt collar and pin him down to be punched as many times as he could stand. Ideo knew this man all too well, the insults and taunts from the prison cell practically rang in his ears as he finally unleashed all his pent-up rage at how he and Bluegilly had been treated on the one who had gloated over him, called him a savage. The rest of them he left to his crew, just so long as he could beat the shit out of this particular one. It was entirely one-sided, the man never had a chance to even get off a single shot, let alone retaliate against his attacker. Ideo stopped just one punch short of knocking him out, wanting him to bear witness to the final defeat of his gang at the hands of this one pirate crew, dragging him up off the ground and holding him suspended at the end of his long arm. Spluttering and gasping through knocked-out teeth, the thug boggled at him and then the others behind him, at Bluegilly sweeping a few enemies over the rail into the water and the rest of the crew chasing thugs all across the pier, knocking them down and out. “Wh…the hell?” the leader rasped at his captor, blood streaming down his chin. “How did you…? Cayse! How…how?”

Gathering he meant to ask “how did you get away from Cayse?” Ideo decided he didn’t deserve an answer. “You see the mark on that flag above you?” he said instead, tossing his head to indicate the jolly rogers atop each mast. “The one that’s on the back of my jacket? That’s the mark of the Ideo Pirates. You’d better remember it, because it’s the mark of the ones who finally broke your grip. That’s right, we got away. All of us.” He reeled his arm in, bringing the gang leader right up into his face and sneering darkly at him. “All you need to know is that we escaped, from Scarlucci and all the rest of your buddies, and made it back here just fine. You guys are _nothing_ compared to us. Remember that!”

He threw the thug down, watched him bounce, and then put a foot on his neck to keep him from getting up, though the man was in no shape to do so any longer. His eyes rolled from the pirates already moving to haul their supplies back onto their ship to the captain towering over him, backlit by the setting sun which washed his black jacket in red light. “Fucking Longarm,” the man cursed him. “You couldn’t have escaped…!”

“Then how am I standing here in front of you now, with no collar on my neck?” Incensed, Ideo ground his heel into the thug’s collarbone until he squealed in pain. “We’re not your slaves, we’ll be nobody’s slaves, ever! You were so damn proud of catching us, weren’t you?” he seethed. “You knew you weren’t strong enough to take us, so you pulled that shit on us and then thought you were so amazing for getting the collars on us. Well, joke’s on you, asshole. You can take this to Scarlucci, and what’s his name – Cayse? I beat him down too, but even that wasn’t enough for me. Tell them: we’re going to spread word about your trap here all across the New World. Heaven help you if you’ve waylaid crews belonging to any of the Emperors, because they really don’t like it when you fuck with their people. For that matter, neither does Straw Hat Luffy.” His dangerous scowl shifted to a bloodthirsty grin. “If you wanna stand toe to toe with pirates on our level, it’s gonna take a lot more than some knockout gas and a few pistols. If I were you I’d retire and take up cabbage farming, before someone a lot bigger than me comes along and puts you out of business _permanently_.”

The gang leader looked mildly confused at the mention of Straw Hat, but the threat in general was well understood. For this crew to be so powerful and yet without bounties meant that there was much more than met the eye going on, and anyone of notoriety from Straw Hat on up to the Four Emperors was undoubtedly not going to be trapped so easily. While Ideo tormented him, Abdullah came up alongside him, one trident slung over his shoulder, its tines stained with blood. “We’re about halfway finished, captain. What about you?”

“I think I’m done.” Ideo kicked his victim in the side and then drew back. “I want him alive to take a message back to his boss. One last thing, though, before we go.” He pointed to the other ship still anchored next to theirs. “I want the flags taken down off that one.”

He didn’t say why in the hearing of the defeated gang, but Abdullah understood. They had learned enough of pirate ways by now to know that a ship without flags was considered captured, so even if the gang wanted to leave it intact to try to lure other ships in, the lack of flags would instantly send a signal to those who understood the code that something was not right. Before either of them could consider the fastest way to do so, one of their men brushed past. “I’ve got it, Ideo,” he promised their captain, running to go climb aboard and pull the flags down himself.

Satisfied, the other two turned to see where the rest of the crew was in their task and pitch in if needed, so as to hurry up and get the rest of the supplies reloaded before the Altamarin pursuit force caught up. Night was falling fast, and they wanted to put out to sea as soon as possible. By the time the last barrel had been brought aboard, their crewmate returned with the other ship’s flags, which they burned on the pier even while their defeated enemies crawled away in desperation, hoping against hope that their comrades or someone from Altamarin would come to their rescue before the valuable prizes could get away. The gang leader lay where he had fallen, no one wanted to even come close enough to drag him away, and stared at the back of the jackets worn by captain and vice-captain reflecting the mark which unfurled in all its glory on the huge black foresail once the Ideo Pirates boarded their ship and turned it away from the pier. They had the benefit of the nightly land-breeze to help push them away from the island, but once out to sea, they would rely on the paddle-wheels to speed them away from the nightmare of Altamarin. In their wake they left considerably more destruction than the island of darkness had ever seen, just enough to cement their names and faces into the minds of those who could declare them a threat to the world.

Simply taking back their cargo and setting sail wasn’t enough for Ideo and Bluegilly, they wanted to be well away from the island before they could fully relax and stand down. The captain ordered their cannons to be loaded just in case, concerned that with the Marine presence in the city they could be fired upon or followed at sea as easily as on land. Yet, as the light vanished from the sky and night fell deep and dark over the ship, the paddle-wheels steered them into a current and they cut power so as to silently drift past the high, hilly landmass that hid the truth of Altamarin and its nobles from the rest of the world, seemingly free of any sort of pursuit and able to slip away completely unnoticed. Ideo sent Bluegilly ahead of him to take the first shower, busying himself with command decisions and keeping watch until it was his turn to wash up. He didn’t even care that the water was cold, it felt like he was finally scrubbing away the last vestiges of slavery from his body along with the sweat, dirt, and blood. By the time he came back topside, Jeet had a real dinner on the table in the galley and though they had to keep someone on watch just in case, everyone else piled in to eat all together. There were no more shifty looks or shy hesitations when the two captains entered one after the other, instead they were greeted with a happy shout, and both grinned broadly at the enthusiasm. Everyone else still needed to clean up and better tend their injuries, but for now they ignored it in favor of budging over and encouraging their leaders to sit among them. Ideo rewarded them by plopping down right in the middle of the bench between crewmates, thanking them openly before reaching for the rice. Even though they were growing more certain that they were home free, the chatter couldn’t fully be steered away from the ordeal they had all just been through, though to be fair most of it was telling and retelling each other of their most adventurous exploits, their harrowing escapes and bloody battles as if all of them hadn’t been right there seeing it all happen before their eyes. Abdullah had wisely cracked a cask of rum, they all deserved it, and it helped to add a little volume and color to their stories. Ideo simply sat and listened to them for a while as he ate, genuinely interested to hear about the way Jeet set the town on fire and Abdullah beat down the guys in the prison since he hadn’t seen those twists for himself. As talk wound down and they ran out of new information, he took a deep drink and set his tankard down firmly enough to draw attention toward him. “I owe you guys,” he said simply without preface, looking up and down the table. “I know I said it already but it bears repeating. Bluegilly and I, we never could’ve gotten out of there without you. Yeah, crewmates look out for each other, but you don’t know what that means until you’re in that position, and somebody’s going to die unless you put your own life on the line for them.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” one shrugged. “You took us on even though none of us ever even really thought about being pirates before, gave us a place to belong. It’s only fair we give you our trust in return. Though,” he added with a snort, “we definitely didn’t know what we were getting into at the time.”

“Yeah,” another chuckled, “we might’ve gotten excited hearing you talk about being pirates and didn’t think it through. But I don’t think any of us would change our minds even if you gave us the chance.”

“No way,” a third agreed. “Maybe we were naïve but the last few days have been full of exactly the kind of fights I’ve always wanted.”

Ideo averted his gaze even though they were all so cheery around him. “You followed a Triple-X champion out to sea, instead of a pirate captain. The four of us who founded the crew knew what we were signing up for, but…”

“Even if we did,” the second man assured, “we’re in it just as you are, Ideo.”

“No regrets,” someone else said boldly. “Okay, maybe one regret.” He set his mug on the table and leaned closer, but instead of a joke, he said something that cut Ideo to the heart. “That we’ve got no idea how it felt in those cages and we can’t know. It must have been awful.”

Ideo lifted his head and stared, touched, as most of his crewmates nodded slowly and solemnly. “We were standing out on the street corner playing lookout,” one related, “and I kept hearing people walk by talking about a Longleg and Longarm like they’d just come from the circus. All I could think was, damn, that’s my _captain_ you’re talking about. Ask Ferd, I almost jumped out and punched at least five people and he had to keep reeling me in.” He thumbed at the man next to him, who made the exact put-upon face of someone who had to restrain him at least that many times.

The first man who’d spoken up reached to pour more rum into everyone’s cups. “What was it like?” he asked carefully, warily. “I mean. You don’t have to tell us, it’s probably pretty personal…”

Their captain breathed a deep sigh and looked across to where Bluegilly sat between crewmates, met his eyes for a moment, and seemed to take silent courage from it. “It’s a kind of hell I don’t wish on anyone,” he answered sincerely. “Maybe you guys aren’t…I mean, you’re regular humans, you don’t have to be afraid someone’s going to grab you like they did us, but that other crew from the other ship got sold as slaves just the same. It could’ve been you instead of us, or with us.” He took his full tankard back up and savored a sip while the crew shifted uncomfortably. “I’m glad they didn’t get any of you, though. Not just so you could rescue us – slavery is one of those things you hear about sometimes, a whisper in passing or something, but it never really seems real until it happens to you.”

“Or one of your crewmates,” Bluegilly put in.

“Yeah.” Ideo looked around at all of them, since they were listening raptly and not shrinking away from his honesty. “It’s not like they beat us or anything. I almost wish they had, it would’ve been more normal.” He had left his gloves off for once, and tapped his fingers on the tabletop. “Really, I felt actually powerless in there. As strong as I am, as strong as I like to _think_ I am, I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. I’m not used to that…to relying on other people…”

“Not even Bluegilly?” one wondered.

The vice-captain looked up curiously. “What about me, now?”

“Bluegilly was right there next to me going through the same bullshit,” Ideo pointed out in order to avoid anything that touched on their relationship. “Strong as we are, neither of us could set ourselves free. So, let that be a lesson to you,” he added sagely, glancing to the crewmate next to him. “It could happen to anybody. It doesn’t matter how strong you are if the other guy’s got the right trick, or a Devil Fruit, or stronger haki or whatever, and you don’t realize it until it’s too late. There’s a fine line between becoming a powerful, notorious pirate crew and watching your journey end on some shitty island in the middle of the New World.”

Most of the crew conceded that with bobs of their heads or tips of their mugs to one another. They could have very well ended up like the other ship, if luck had been against them. “That’s not to say we’re not gonna work on getting stronger,” Jeet said smartly. “The stronger we are, all together, the harder it’ll be for dipshits like those guys to get the drop on us next time.”

That evoked a more enthusiastic round of mug-tapping and nudging each other, and faces started to warm with grins again. “It was a hell of a fight, though,” someone crowed. “Pirate life really is rougher, but I like it. That was a _real_ life or death struggle. What we did mattered.”

“Man, I never thought of it that way,” another mused.

“I got a feeling we’re gonna be a notorious crew pretty quick, here,” yet another said with a wag of his eyebrows. “Did you hear that one Marine recognize the capt…Ideo? They’re gonna pin all that trouble on him and the crew with him.”

“They had to have seen our mark,” one insisted, banging his mug on the table. “We’re on our way to bounties and big names, now!”

“Maybe we all oughta get jackets like Ideo and Bluegilly,” one suggested eagerly.

Ideo laughed it off, but at the same time, he heard it in their voices. They really were his crew, weren’t they? They were calling him by name like he wanted. They respected him, knew him to be their leader, but at the same time they had come through the fire together, relying on each other and placing their full trust in one another. It would still take time for him to ever be able to be as open with anyone else in the crew as he was with Bluegilly, but this was definitely off to a good start. Abdullah got up and declared his intention to go and relieve the guy on lookout so he could come in and get some food and booze with the rest of them, meaning one more for the party and the bonding. Ideo still had a dinner to finish and fell to it, while across from him Bluegilly swished his rum around in his cup. “There’s really only one thing that bugs me,” he sighed, “and that’s that we weren’t able to do anything about the slave trade. We didn’t owe anyone anything but shit, if we could’ve even gotten one of those other pirates free, it’d be something.”

“We didn’t see any other ones,” a crewmate realized, looking at his fellows. “Abdullah said the whole place was nobles, though, so they had to have had some…”

“The entire crew of that other ship got sold off, except the captain,” Ideo informed them. “Really, though, all the slaves were probably in all the big mansions serving their masters. They’re not like Celestial Dragons parading their property through the streets.” No amount of attempting to sound casual could keep the disgusted grumble out of his voice. “It’s hard, I know, but a city like that is so deeply entrenched with the World Government that we’d just get ourselves captured instead of saving anybody. It may sound strange, but that city is as dangerous to the likes of us as walking right into Marine HQ or Impel Down.”

The thought made more than one crewmate take a deep drink of rum to keep them from loudly cursing world nobles and everyone involved with them. “Besides,” one added, “it’s not our home. It’s not our job to start a slave revolt there, or clean up all the government corruption.”

Bluegilly frowned over his cup. “True. There were probably too many anyway. Hundreds, at least. Freeing even a portion of them would take a dedicated army with an actual plan.”

“I did unlock one other collar besides yours,” Jeet said, startling them all, though making this revelation came as easy to him as reporting the weather. “There was a woman in the mansion who made me a deal, she didn’t sound the alarm in exchange for me setting her free. I’m a man of my word, so I gave her what she wanted – she got me into the asshole’s bedroom to get the keys, fair’s fair.”

“A woman,” Bluegilly repeated. “In Scarlucci’s house? About your height, brown hair in a bun?”

“That’s right.” Jeet squinted at him. “Why?”

“Oh…” Ideo realized it at the same moment, sobering a bit. “That girl.”

“She looked after us when they brought us in,” the vice-captain explained. “What happened?”

“Like I said, I unlocked her collar and that’s it,” Jeet admitted. “Last I saw of her she was disappearing into the night. I don’t know if she even had a way of getting out of the city, especially after our little escapade had all of their police and the Marines on high alert and the gates locked down, but…at least she’s free.”

“She’s got a chance, then,” Bluegilly said, going back to his drink. “Better than most, anyway.”

The bounty hunter gave him a rap on the arm as he got up to clear away some of the dishes. “Ferd’s right, it’s not our job to rescue all of ‘em. Sometimes, all you can do is one kindness instead of a thousand, and one’s better than none.”

The rest of the crew seemed to agree, and the Longleg decided after a moment that he could be content with that. After all, they weren’t nearly as powerful as their own fleet benefactor – when they had the same strength as Straw Hat Luffy, they could think about rescuing entire countries and starting counter-revolutions on their own time. Maybe someday. It was odd for any pirate to speak of kindnesses anyway, even if deep down they weren’t all ruthless criminals and had enough of a heart to give a shit once in a while.

Talk continued for a time but as they all finished, the lateness of the hour started to catch up to some and sent them crawling away to clean up, check on their injuries, and fall into their bunks. Ideo himself managed to escape in due order but not until after saying goodnight to whoever was still around and giving them one more grateful encouragement before disappearing below decks. The captains’ cabin was two decks below the galley and fully aft, he didn’t even need to pass the other crew quarters to reach it, and even though he was feeling particularly generous toward his guys, he decided to slip down there unnoticed while he could and just take a moment to decompress. At no point in his ordeal did he ever consciously think about whether or not he would ever see his own room again, but now that he was there, it hit him how close they had come to losing everything. One twist of bad luck or poor timing and he’d be bound for Mariejois now, not the other end of the Grand Line. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then stretched to remove his jacket. It was dirty enough to need a washing, meaning he’d have to don his regular boxing jacket in the morning, but he was happy to have the freedom to make such a decision. Though he had been without any means of tucking up his long arms for more than two days, letting them down now was his choice and he did so comfortably, relaxing his sore joints and going through a full range of proper stretches, arms and back and neck. His cuts and scrapes weren’t anything that needed to be bound up, though he stepped over to the desk where the largest lamp sat in order to examine himself fully and pronounce himself good enough. At that moment the door behind him creaked and Bluegilly spoke before he’d even fully entered the room. “…oh, you’re already here.”

Ideo turned as soon as he heard the door, and in two quick strides he was there to meet Bluegilly, hands coming up around his face and pulling him down to be kissed hard. His abrupt and unannounced attack had the Longleg pinned against the door for a moment before he could reciprocate, leaning into it and purring under his breath in delight at being offered such a nice welcome. For all its ferocity it was short, though, and Ideo pulled back with a happy murmur of his own. “I’ve been wanting to do that for _days_.”

Bluegilly blinked and then frowned a bit. “It has been days, hasn’t it? Almost a week, if you count the last time we did…well, anything.”

“I don’t need to think about how long it was,” Ideo insisted, dragging his hands down his comrade’s neck to his chest. “It’s over now, and we’re back where we should be. Back home.”

That sounded nice, and the hands on his chest had Bluegilly smiling widely, but all things considered he wasn’t in the mood for any of their usual fun. He was still sore in places and had bruised a toe kicking the gate apart, he really just wanted some quiet time to sit. He brushed the back of one hand along Ideo’s jaw as he edged past and moved toward his bunk. “I feel like we can’t just let it go without talking about it,” he mused, “but at the same time I really don’t want to talk about it right now.”

Ideo let him go and then checked to be sure the door had been firmly closed before turning around. “There is one thing I said I’d talk about, when we got out of there,” he remembered. “It doesn’t have to be now, though. It’s late, and we both need sleep.”

He went to pick up his crew jacket and toss it in the laundry, while behind him Bluegilly hesitated, standing with a hand clenched on the front of his sweatshirt like he wasn’t sure he wanted to unzip it just yet. He remembered that conversation all too well, every word of it, but now that they had their chance, he wasn’t sure exactly how he wanted it to go. If he even wanted it to go at all, now. He turned away slightly, eyes absently taking in his extra-long bunk with the blankets still rumpled from the morning before they had arrived at the island. “Listen, Ideo. About what I said, back there…”

“You’re not going to take it back, are you?” Ideo drifted back a couple of steps and went to straighten up his own bunk without once turning to look at his comrade. “Because those words got me through the worst of those couple of days. Not gonna lie, I’d be pretty disappointed if you asked me to forget about it.”

Surprised, Bluegilly blinked in silence for a moment before rousing himself, crossing the cabin and coming up behind him. “I thought I’d overstepped my bounds,” he admitted. “You and I…we don’t really talk about things between us. I figured it didn’t matter if I was starting to get feelings, if you didn’t. No sense opening up and saying shit like that if it wasn’t going to come to anything.” He shrugged stiffly, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shirt. “But then, like I said in there – if we’d ended up dead, I would have regretted not saying something.”

“Yeah, well…” Ideo’s gaze was firmly fixed on the floor as he straightened up. “You’ve got a point. I didn’t need to talk about it, everything was going so well. It was just what I wanted, I had nothing to complain about. I mean, a friend I can trust with my life and all my secrets, who’s a fucking amazing lay on top of it?” He chuckled to himself. “What’s not to like?”

Bluegilly’s mouth turned down despite the compliment. “You don’t want that to change.”

“It was good the way it was.” Ideo finally lifted his head and looked his vice-captain’s way, his brown eyes soft and a helpless sort of half-smile on his lips. “But it’s not like it can’t be even better.”

Bluegilly’s expression remained tight, something in his bright blue eyes suggesting that he was holding himself back from really believing it. “Then, what _you_ said…about us spending our days together on some island somewhere…”

“I just made that up on the spot,” the captain confessed, “but I still meant it. I just had this vision in mind all of a sudden, of us all battle-scarred and old and finally able to retire, fighting all day and drinking all night, and I went with it. I still want it. I want…” His brow knit for a moment as the truth sort of hit him then and there. “…you to be in my life, until the end. I want us to be together, no matter what.”

“As just friends,” Bluegilly prompted, “or something else…?”

Ideo shook his head wryly. “Doesn’t matter,” he insisted. “One way or another. I’m not gonna make promises I can’t keep, but at the same time, I’m not gonna do anything stupid to push you away.” He dropped to a seat on his bed, very clearly leaving space to one side for his partner to join him, and sat with hands dangling in his lap. “I’m not any good at this, I don’t know how to…come right out and say things that make sense and sound nice.”

“You did, though…in there.” Bluegilly gave him a moment and then eased closer a step at a time, eventually lowering himself down beside him. “You don’t have to say anything, though. The way you kissed me earlier told me all I really need to know.”

Ideo frowned uncertainly at him. “How so?”

“That’s the first time you’ve ever up and kissed me just because.” Between them, Bluegilly was the one who almost always initiated, unless sex was immediately and unmistakably involved and Ideo just got caught up in the thrill. He wasn’t keeping track out of a need to demand reciprocation, it was just something he’d noticed.

A blush instantly stole across Ideo’s face, and he looked away sharply, suddenly self-conscious about letting himself go for it and take what he wanted like that. “It’s…not a bad thing, right?”

“Course not.” Bluegilly leaned over and rested his chin on Ideo’s shoulder, keeping his hands to himself but definitely leaning fully against his long arm and his side. They had no need to be quiet, but he felt like doing so anyway, murmuring gently so close to Ideo’s ear. “Our kind aren’t supposed to be friends, let alone lovers. I know it happens once in a while, otherwise where would we get Longlimbs? But it’s rare, like a miracle when it does happen. I used to wonder how it was even possible, but…maybe I get it, now.”

“I told you, it doesn’t have anything to do with me being a Longarm and you being a Longleg.” The closeness was comforting, more than Ideo expected. After two days and then some of being unable to even touch each other, this was exactly the level of intimacy he didn’t even know he’d been craving. He turned his head slightly, so that he could feel the warmth of Bluegilly’s breath against his cheek. “You’re my friend. And…my lover, yeah. I never really stopped to think that it was anything special, not even after those other morons we stranded on that island were staring at us like we’d both gone crazy because we actually liked each other.”

With his chin propped on his companion’s shoulder like that, Bluegilly’s sudden grin made him look entirely too cat-like. He remembered that incident well. “We blew their damn minds. All the more reason to steal their shit and go full-on pirate thanks to them.” The memory was a distraction, though, taking them away from this moment and the talk they hadn’t planned but was happening anyway. His eyes shifted down, tracing along the length of Ideo’s arm to his hands free of the gloves, rough-knuckled fingers loosely laced between his knees. “Goes both ways, you know. You’re _my_ friend, the one person I trust with everything. We’re a team. I’m not just vice-captain to your captain, it’s more than that – it’s been more than that since before we even decided to set out to sea together.”

Ideo nearly retorted that he knew this, it was obvious and they had said as much to each other before, but he pursed his lips to restrain himself. After all they had been through, individually and as a team, before and after they ever took on a crew, their friendship was something he almost took for granted. It was hard to remember what it was like not having this steadfast companion in his life. After a minute staring at his hands, he murmured, “So…when you said you love me…?”

Bluegilly took a deep breath and sighed it out slowly, lifting his head so as not to keep putting pressure on his shoulder. “No matter what happens to us,” he began to explain, “I’ll always love you like a brother. I don’t think it’s possible for us to never not be friends. But friends…” He edged closer, seeming to address his shy whisper to the earrings in Ideo’s earlobe. “…don’t kiss each other the way you kiss me.”

That got an awkward little gust of a laugh in response. “All right, maybe you’ve got a point there,” Ideo conceded without looking at him. “But I also remember you saying that sometimes sex is just sex, just for fun.”

“Ideo,” his companion said with the exasperation of having to state the obvious, “it stopped being ‘just sex’ a long time ago.”

The deepest blush crept up Ideo’s neck and heated his face, all the more reason to keep his gaze studiously on his folded hands and the floor just beyond them. He couldn’t make it disappear, or stop Bluegilly from seeing, a realization that had him pouting to himself, lips twisting in annoyance. “What, then?” he complained. “Are you trying to get me to admit that I do have feelings?”

He felt a hand curl around the middle segment of his arm and glanced down at it, then straight at Bluegilly. All sense of teasing was gone, his eyes dark as the deep sea in all seriousness. “Don’t you? I don’t care if you don’t want to call it _love_ , there’s something there when you say you want to die together with me.” His grip tightened slightly. “When you want to protect me even though you know I’m capable of protecting myself.”

Ideo shifted to be able to turn his head and look straight at him, meeting his eyes again and remembering them gazing up at him through the bars of the cage, sincere and defiant but also desperate and sad. He never wanted to see that look in them again, and catching himself thinking of it, he made himself one small, private promise not to hesitate. Life was too short and harsh to worry about whether he was being too sappy with his dearest friend. “I meant every word I said in there,” he breathed. “About being together, dying together…all of it. It wasn’t just the exhaustion talking. If that’s…more than just friends who care about each other, then…fuck it, maybe I do have some kind of feelings.”

Bluegilly sat back slightly, releasing his arm and clawing that hand through his hair instead as if trying not to facepalm in frustration. “You thick-headed idiot,” he said with a weak laugh.

“Oi!”

“Fine.” Bluegilly rubbed his face to stop himself grinning and settled back into place, leaning against him shoulder to shoulder. “It’s not like I’m asking you to get married or anything like that. All I wanted was to see where you stood, if you weren’t gonna let me take back what I said in there. You’re the one who said it could be even better than we already have it.”

“Yeah…I guess I did.” For all he tried to insist that he didn’t know his own feelings, Ideo was starting to realize that this lengthy chat was all for the purpose of getting him to see that he did, really, somewhere deep down where he didn’t want to admit to them. Things kept coming out of his mouth and revealing that not everything he felt was just the way friends acted. He relaxed subtly and moved one hand over to drape over Bluegilly’s tattooed thigh. “You can’t take it back because you meant it,” he said quietly. “Just like I meant the other stuff. So…what do we do?”

From the way Bluegilly smirked, that was the easiest question of them all to answer. “Same thing we’ve been doing. Just now, I’m not going to bite my tongue when I’m feeling sappy because I know that deep down you…” His hand came to rest in the crook of his partner’s lower elbow again, warm and stable. “…are a total sap, too.”

“Aw, c’mon…” But that was all the protest Ideo could muster. He gave Bluegilly a helpless, hang-dog sort of look that only made the Longleg laugh again. “That’s it, huh? I guess that’s not so bad.”

“Hmm, that, and…” The hand moved from his arm to the center of Ideo’s chest and pushed him with the not-so-subtle suggestion that he lay down, what with all this broad Longarm-sized bed to work with. He did, and had Bluegilly immediately stretching out half on top of him, propping his chin on one arm. “…maybe sometimes I just want to snuggle.”

“Seriously?” Ideo stared him down, but it didn’t last long, for Bluegilly prowled up closer so that his legs weren’t dangling off the end of the bed and favored him with a deep kiss. He broke away before it could get too hot and heavy and simply laid down next to him, making himself comfortable in the captain’s bed. It wasn’t bad, Ideo realized. In fact, it was kind of nice having the reassurance of his closeness after those days separated by cruel iron bars, and no expectation that he should get himself all worked up. After a moment in which he grasped that this wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, he breathed a deep sigh and curled one long arm around Bluegilly’s shoulders. “Your bed’s longer,” he noted, aware that the Longleg probably was still hanging half off the end of the bunk.

“Don’t care,” Bluegilly muttered with his cheek against Ideo’s collarbone. “Tired.”

“Whose fault is that?” The overhead lamp was still on, too, but Ideo didn’t dare dislodge his partner to go and turn it off. The emotional ride caught up to his physical exhaustion and he found himself already drifting toward sleep. The reassuring warmth and weight against his side wasn’t something he had expected, but now that he had it, he wasn’t pushing Bluegilly off for anything. Not tonight, not ever.

Despite the lingering concern that the Marines could still catch up to them and demand recompense for upsetting the world nobles, dawn’s light found the majority of the Ideo Pirates still asleep, and those on watch decided it would be wise to allow their captains all the sleep and privacy they could want after their ordeal. The Triple-X sail filled with a fresh wind that carried them on forward through an otherwise empty sea, nothing but water and clouds to be seen to any side. All land had vanished far behind them, and there wasn’t even a hint of an enemy sail as far as the eye and the spyglass could see. When Ideo finally allowed himself to care what time it was and how his crew was managing, he came up topside only to be handed a hot drink by Jeet, who had everything well in hand for now. He sat down in his favorite deck chair to enjoy it, and only then noticed the faint but unmistakable sounds of fighting; glancing around, he found that it came from the upper rear deck, where a few of his crewmates were sparring with each other. Usually, he and Bluegilly started off the morning that way but never could get anyone else to take them on, but in the aftermath of their imprisonment, both of them preferred rest to routine. Yet, the others had apparently taken a page out of their book this morning. He wasn’t sure what to think of that, though it did lend something of a small smile and a lift to his spirit.

He hadn’t been awake long when first Bluegilly, then Jeet and Abdullah joined him, the Longleg perching himself on the arm of his special captain’s chair, the other two slouching about the deck nearby. “So, where to next?” Jeet prodded with a vague nod toward the wheel. “The needles on the log pose reset, but the third one is still pointing south – well, southwest, now, kind of behind us on this course. That means if we wanted to follow it, we could still find out what this Mordis place is all about.”

Ideo peered at him, almost considering it. “What about the other two?”

“Mostly forward. It looks like we won’t have to make a decision on which one to follow until we’re further out.”

Contemplating it for a moment, Ideo shrugged and sat back, lounging in his chair. “Fuck Mordis. Let’s just keep going forward. Like those guys said back on Homon – there’s no sense going backwards. Keep going. Let’s see what happens.”

Bluegilly was all smiles for him. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”


End file.
